Team Reckless
by Alex Schira
Summary: A young pilot from the middle of nowhere, a dream, an act of Fate, and a Team destined to make headlines. A whole new outlook on Teams and Zi. ON HIATUS
1. Chapter 1

DISCLAIMER I don't own zoids, I do own Trey, his neighbors, the old guy, and those two in the Molga. Well, his neighbors are a bunch of deadbeats so you can have 'em. My first fic, please be forgiving. But please note, Trey is a moron. He's adjusting to society, so be prepared for a guy freaking out over a gas station.

I zipped up my duffel bag, pulled on my jacket, and jumped out my second story window. I landed on my feet and kept running. So this was it, I was running away from the most isolated town on Zi. I shrugged my bag higher on my back and cut through an alley between a bunch of houses and a warehouse. The moon was nowhere in sight, it was a cloudy night. About two blocks away from my destination, I saw a group of people outside a house. They were my old neighbors, the old computer specialist, the school program designer, that old woman who got money for identities she stole off the Web. The rest I couldn't recognize. The guy who owns the general store was holding a box of explosives. I didn't have much time then. The old guy said they'd start at sunrise.

In a few minutes of running I was at the old house next to a rented warehouse where I had spent most of my time for the last ten years. I typed in the code on the front door, walked through the living room and the kitchen, out the door into a large makeshift hanger containing boxes of parts, and tucked near the door was a zoid. Covered in dirt and rust, no paint left, but when I turned on the main lights it's tinted eyes glinted at me. A Lightning Saix. I heard a car speed away outside, he hadn't waited to say goodbye. At least he has a head start on the townsfolk. I took a deep breath and reached into my pocket, pulling out a card-sized remote and tapping a square. The ancient zoid creaked onto it's stomach, it's cracking cockpit hinging open to reveal a dust free seat and panel. It hadn't been ridden in decades, no wonder it's not dusty. I hopped onto the old leather chair. I'd been wanting to do this all my life. Why wasn't I cheering. I clicked the card again, the door of the hanger slid into the ceiling. I pulled down the cockpit and locked it. I typed a code onto the ancient keyboard and the lights flickered on. Soon I felt the beast rise to its feet. I grabbed the controls gently, and pressed forward. The zoid limped at a good pace out into the night. Yes, it limped.

It was truly beyond repair, a trophy. I adjusted some dials to an easier setting and the limp became a weighted power walk. I closed the door with my card, and looked back at the glass of the cockpit at my reflection. Brown hair straight down to my bangs, some peroxide streaks going through it. Gently tanned skin, a jacket that used to be black suede but was reduced to light brown felt. Jeans worn to the point of being gray. Old borrowed boots. I tore my eyes back to the desert in front of me. My name was Trey Brand. Well, it was now. I had been born in a town in the middle of the desert that revolved around people with nowhere else to go. People who had made a bad reputation for themselves, so they flee to a little suburb in the deadest area on the planet. My father was a business man who was caught doing deals with a Backdraft member. My mother was married to him at the time, and followed him here. I was never noticed in this place. Every person was in their own world, in their own misery.

My folks used to take out their inner rage on me, just hurt me to the point they could be happy with themselves. No, that's not why I was running off. You see, when I was about 7, and was bleeding from a beating with an expensive high heel, I wandered around my neighborhood in a daze looking for something to cover the cut with. A man grabbed my hand, took me into his house, and gave me first aid, dinner, and a hat to shade my eyes from the sun. He invited me to come over the next day to get my bandages changed and to hear a few stories. I was there every day for a decade. He taught me about a place outside this town, he gave me a decent education instead of the old textbooks children were given by their exiled parents. He told me about one thing I never could hear enough about. Zoids. Giant metal animals that battled for glory, honor, the right to live a happy life. He told me of the organized battles after the fighting was over. He told me about the breeds: cats, foxes, dinosaurs. I thought it was a fairy tale until he showed me the one he owned and once piloted. A Saix.

Not just a standard Saix that you see police units in, the same Saix that was the first of its kind to reach something called the S Class. He never took it out of the hanger he had made, he just showed me every day how each control worked, how the zoid moved, what to do if whatever happens happens. He taught me how to be a zoid pilot without ever setting foot in a zoid. He told me about every battle he had been in. Every secret, every trick. For years this went on, teaching me about the world and the rusting zoid. About a week ago the townspeople started talking about my mentor. He didn't belong. He moved here willingly, he wasn't a criminal or a fraud. He never told me what he was doing here, or why he retired from the battles he lived for. The people decided that destroying everything he owned would be a good answer. You see why these folks are sent here? Well, they could have been louder. The old man started packing right away. He was going to order a Molga to come out here and pick up his Saix, but for some reason he wanted me to take it to the closest major city and stay there. I found out later the paths were guarded; this was the only way to get this thing out in one piece.

It used to be the fastest Zoid in its division, but for some reason he never let me in on this thing could only go about 40 MPH. I think it had something to do with the supports. If I tried to go full speed this thing would fall apart. So it would take a few hours for it to reach a city that was just around the corner. It was my first time in a zoid, I wanted to go round jumping and shooting off particle guns, not limp to the nearest garage. The cockpit was like a second home to me, I knew how to make this thing run on walls. Well, if it could run. It's like getting a toy without batteries. I reached over and tapped what looked like a dinner plate, it flickered onto a green screen showing a triangle in the very center. Hm, the radar. I looked at the other side. Okay, main and secondary guns, boost, and a few buttons that used to work weapons that had long since fallen off. I looked at the steering wheel device in my hands and noticed a switch on the side. I flipped it and laid back, at least the cruise control still works. You know, being in a zoid is like being on a boat, you're moving up and down but you don't notice. Then again, I'd never seen a lake let alone a boat so this was trusted from my mentor.

I reached into my handed down bag and retrieved a candy bar form the side. Actually it was a protein bar, my home town didn't have any luxuries. Well, it's more of a center for the exiled and emotionally distraught. Come to think of it, I'm the first kid to leave there. Most of the other kids are with their parents moping about a business merger. And they'd be there for centuries I guess. Now, at the time that I was riding in that old zoid I didn't realize what I was getting into. I was going from a camp to a full fledged city. It was like winning the lottery. But I, being an innocent novice, had no idea the wonders of a gas station could offer. Food, gas, and drinks in the same building? For two hours I laid back watching the sun rise in that Saix. Maybe this was what a zoid pilot lives like. A trusty zoid, traveling, the rock of paws trotting the turf. Suddenly a pained beep emerged from the barely running radar. I saw a red dot approaching on my right. I looked out, and low and behold there was a Molga, dragging a hover sled with the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen. I knew the exact model and type just from what the old man had told me.

"Blade Liger MJ."

It was custom painted aquamarine. Now, the first thing I thought was that this wasn't what I thought it was. The old man hadn't seen a battle in years, they've long since moved on. It turns out the old man had forgotten to teach me about television. This ocean colored cat, and even its little green Molga, were the most beautiful Zoids I'd ever laid eyes on. Considering I had only seen the Saix, this was an easy statement. I could see a tiny figure piloting the worm, probably on cruise control just like I was. Suddenly a blink came from my panel. An intercom, I forgot about that. I pressed a green square and a female face popped up on panel.

" Nice Zoid. . . I'm not being sarcastic, it looks like a classic. . underneath the rust! Ha!"

She had black hair, a fake tanned face, and huge earrings.

"Sorry, it is a nice model though. My dad collects those older ones. You find it in the scrap yard and scam the guy?"

I blinked. This girl talked faster than my whole household did in a year.

"Um . . . yeah, it's one of the older LS versions . . . the gun is probably a vintage, but it runs. Well, limps anyway."

The glowing face nodded.

"Why are you running anyway? You should get a trailer for a statue like that thing."

". . . Um. . . I'm not sure either; I'm moving it for a friend."

"Suddenly the girl's face was a mess of black hair; she was turned around, talking to some one off screen. Then she flipped back to the camera.

"You're headed to the Bay right?"

". . .Well, I'm goin' toward a big city."

She laughed. She thought I was cracking a joke.

"We got room on the trailer, hop on!"

At the time I didn't know you were supposed to stop a trailer before loading, I found out later this girl was just a bit light headed at times. I swerved over and hopped onto the trailer rather accurately, some rust flaking off the legs of the Saix. This was my first major feat as a pilot. I jumped out of the popped open cockpit, shimmied down a front leg, between the Liger's paws and over the connecting cable into the back hatch of the Molga, where another dark haired girl watched with her jaw dropped.

". . . you're insane. . . "

It wasn't until a month later I learned I was prone to impossible stunts, feats of strength, and the little things I did became eye catching in the outside world. Now back to standing on the cable like a tight rope and jumping into the Molga hatch. I expected to see a storage room, the back of the zoid was covered so it could be used as a storage area, and this wasn't a combat zoid. I found a living room like area with a small kitchen tucked to the side.

"My mom is an interior designer, my dad's a zoid junkie, do the math."

This un-named girl led me to the front to meet the more familiar un-named girl.

"You sure know how to pick 'em Riz, this guy jumped off his zoid, ran on the trailer and walked on the cable like a circus act."

". . . wow . . . are you like a stunt guy? That would explain the totaled zoid."

". . . um . . . it's not mine . . . and the name is Trey, Trey Brand."

I spent the next ten minutes telling them my life story. At the time, I thought it was perfectly normal. I mean, I was kind of ignorant back then. I didn't know why they were letting their jaws drop. Or why they kept hugging me afterwards. I barely remember the hour of questions; at the time I didn't know I was a Cinderella story. Before I knew it one of the girls was forcing food on me, feeling my arms to see if I was malnourished, and I was avoiding contact at all cost. I didn't discover dating until a year after I left home. I found out the girl with no common sense was named Riz, the other was her cousin Clara, they were going to the city to check out a new zoid for Riz, Clara had her Liger on the back next to my shameful looking saix. I mean the old man's Saix. It seemed Clara shared her father's interest in old Zoids, she knew about my mentor and his zoid that they were dragging behind their hovering home away from home.

Now, when I look back on this I realize any guy would kill for this to happen. Thankfully, I slowly gained common sense and views as I traveled. Now, I know you want to hear about my zoid life and the phenomenon known as Team Reckless. Well, just go read a magazine then. This is the inside story.

Author's Note

This is my first posted fic, sadly. I know it may seem a bit char-orientated, but the next chapter will start to revolve around zoids and pilots, and less about this guy in particular. If you're wondering about how he keeps impressing people, it ties in with his background; I am a sole hater of Mary Janes/super powered char fan fics. So no, this future team isn't going to trash the Blitz Team to show how awesome they are like the fics my friends talk about writing. Hence why this guy has spent his life working and training to just use a zoid, not become a champion. But if you want to keep hearing about Trey, then say so in the reviews. And the thing with him and the cousins is purely for humor, this guy is too innocent to even think of that. Flames welcome, my first fic, and I thank you for reading.


	2. Chapter 2

While in that luxury Molga with the girls, I had my first zoid-orientated conversation. Clara knew more about my zoid than I did. I showed her the remote card for the cockpit, and she just tore off a piece of plastic on the back. I went to stop her but she showed me it was covering the Model ID.

"WTF-6890. Dear god. . . "

I shrugged, man I was a moron.

"Who did you say sent you with this thing?"

"The old guy."

". . . Name?"

His name? Dang, I'd been calling him 'Sir' for years. I saw it on a few plaques in his hanger.

"Max Brand. He used to pilot zoids a little."

I quickly learned that getting to S Class with an early Saix model was a big feat. And that Max is a historical figure. And that it was smart to take his last name instead of my parents. And that there was a piece of dirt stuck on my shoe. I kicked the dirt clog off and looked out the window.

"Well, I guess it could be handy to be associated with that guy. He should be in the city by now; you guys could meet him I guess."

"You mean the city we're headed toward right?"

"Um, the big thing on my radar I guess."

"That's Vigilian. It's bayside, so it's probably swamped with tourists."

"Eh, he didn't exactly say where in the city to meet. . ."

Riz laughed at me from behind the console.

"You're a tad out of touch, aren't ya?"

I shrugged again. Dang, I was going to regret all that shrugging a year later.

"He'll probably be at the Public Hanger. It's where most guys show off their zoids, and it's where all the pilots go to check out the competition."

"It's also where we're going to scout zoids for Riz; she has no idea what kind she wants. Last week she says she wanted a Liger, most of the family has one and she wants to blend in. About an hour before we picked you up, she said she wanted a Command Wolf!"

I rolled my eyes.

"So you guys use zoids for getting around and work?"

"WHAT! Our family has been in the Sector Games since the first year!"

Sector . . . nope, doesn't ring a bell.

"Ten credits say you don't know what that is."

"I'll pay you later."

"Think Field Day with giant robots."

"So you and Riz train for that?"

"I've won the relay over two cities over with my sisters three times. Riz here thinks she might be a battle pilot."

Riz kept looking at the horizon. So, Riz is the quieter, yet curious one and Clara is a traditional dominant girl. Hm, Clara must have got the short straw and had to help out Riz.

". . .And she wants a Command Wolf?"

Riz and Clara turned to look at me. Riz made sharp eye contact with me, I found out later they were surprised; Clara called me an idiot savant.

"Yeah. . . I think it'd be great for starting out in the Battle Commission."

"That depends, where are you starting out?"

"Out West, my dad likes to watch battles there."

"So you want to do battles in a bunch of abandoned cities and bases from the Big War?"

She nodded.

"A CW's armor would get trashed down there. There's no dirt to slide back on, you'd be getting the full force of every hit you take. And all it takes is a good blade zoid or a sniper to total your zoid. And I mean out of service, not a system freeze. And if you try going close combat in one of those alleys, a wolf's cockpit snaps like a sugar cube in those situations. And don't even try sticking to that turret gun duck taped on; those things can't even dent an armor plate."

More staring. Confused? Well, I didn't know a fuel station from a library, sue me. But I did know zoids. Sure I was from a deadbeat desert town, but I new when a Command Wolf is going to get turned into a toaster.

". . . You were heading us on with that parents story . . . come on, you're Max's grandson or something? Why would you not sue your real name?"

". . . Remember the Backdraft-Ensalax scandal?"

". . . Oh . . . wait, you're saying a Wolf would get me killed in one of those Bases?"

"Have you ever been in a battle? Wolves are great if you know how to use them, most of the ones getting torn up are filled with new pilots. Spend a couple months in the Simulators, a CW is a good zoids to learn with but don't drag a brand new one onto the Field."

". . . Have YOU ever been in a battle?"

Ouch . . . eh . . . true, I kind of knew the tricks but had never even worked a zoid that could walk without breaking.

"Riz, stop the snail. I gotta see this guy in a zoid that wasn't made a few decades ago."

The Molga stopped a mile later; Clara grabbed me by the collar and opened the hatch, dragging me out to the trailer her Liger was on. She clicked something on her belt and it lowered itself like a cat eating from a dish. She just pointed.

"You have the nerve to tell mycousin what zoid is right? Let's see you try and get this thing to even move."

I glared. So Clara wanted me to prove myself, I didn't even know she was ticked off. I hopped into the cockpit and close the hatch. I pressed the start up button, and felt the cat rear up to its feet. Wow, nice. This was my first new zoid cockpit, get this, it was actually comfortable. Nice chair, all the lights aren't blinking, and the radar has nice little symbols instead of dots. I got the zoid to hop off the trailer, no creaks, no snaps, it just hopped. Hm, I may have to get a new zoid sometime. Maybe one that actually belongs to me.

I set the Liger into full sprint right away. I didn't care about Clara or the Molga; I just _had _to do this. Soon I was easily going past a hundred MPH. Dear god, it was gorgeous. The wind going past in spurts, the horizon blurring, the sun blaring down. I reared back the control wheel and I let the cat soar for a good distance through the air. I later learned that a Liger can hardly jump, but I still felt like it could fly.

I saw a small crop of rock ahead, I jumped and a second later I was watching the dirt flash over my head and then the sky. Yep, I could do a flip. Run back, yep, run on walls a little. Hey, what the heck was that? I poked a tile on the console and I saw two sticks unfold on the sides. Blades? So that's what they looked like. I popped them back and kept sprinting. Yeah, I was getting a zoid of my own. The Saix had history, but this thing was amazing! Hey, there's the Molga. And Clara sitting on the tail, Riz in the cockpit. I felt a concrete bar of reality hit me in the groin. This wasn't my zoid. I didn't have one. Or a home. Or a life. And Clara was shaking her head, I'm a lousy pilot. Come on, how could I be good? Some old guy rambling about zoids isn't a teacher. I'm sorry that this isn't the journal of some fancy team leader with a master zoid. I parked it back on the trailer and got out. Well, actually I jumped out and closed the hatch mid jump. I landed in the dirt on my feet.

". . . That bad?"

Clara kept staring.

". . . okay, so I'm bad, who isn't their first time?"

. . . She was still staring. . .

". . . You did a rebound flip. . ."

Wait, she was impressed?

"You had that thing going faster than our Molga!"

"Sorry . . . ?"

"You're a freakin' pro aren't you! You just told us some story you heard in a bar to make us flip when you do those tricks!"

"Eh . . . huh?"

. . . They thought I was a battle pilot pretending to be whatever the heck I said I was? Well, I'd tell you the rest of the trip to the city, but all it is Riz and Clara asking me again and again, where did I learn that stuff? For two hours. When the city finally popped up over the horizon, I wondered why it was shaped like a bunch of squares and triangles. Half the buildings were tall and perfectly squared with each other; the others were triangular and scattered more. Riz explained the skyscrapers were businesses and homes. The triangles were centers for anything zoid related. Planet Zi was half people and their lives, half zoids. Either you're on one side or the other. Wait, drop off the zoid, and talk to the old guy. . And . . . . eh. . What? He didn't give me any plans did he? Well, I can't go back to that waste pit of a suburb. Hm, well, I guess I'll be in the city a while.

"How much would it cost to rent a place down here for a couple months up front?"

I watched as we approached a large beam and steel plate structure surrounding the city. It was like a lopsided ring around the border.

"About 300 for three months, that's usually how long pilots last before moving."

Cripes. I had a hundred credits to my name with that duffel bag in the Saix. I can't sleep in the Saix because I have to give it to the old guy.

"How long are you two staying here?"

"Five or six months, I have to get to the Games by then."

"I already have a place rented."

Hm, so Riz has an apartment. Nah, not the couch hermit type. Hmm. . . . Hermit . . . apartment. . .

"Clara, you're staying with Riz right? And you're leaving the zoids at the Hanger?"

"Yeah."

"Could I sleep in the Molga for a couple days? I'll pay the garage rent and keep it in shape."

Clara seemed more interested than reluctant. She reached back and poked the braid she wore her hair in. She looked just slightly like her cousin. Riz was slightly shorter, smaller of frame. She wore her hair down to her shoulders naturally with those huge triangle earrings that I grew to hate. Clara was taller, more athletic and lacking the orange spray tan Riz sported. She simply had a ponytail. Currently she was looking at my clothing, probably wondering if it was wear and tear or dirt.

"My Liger needs a new tint on the cockpit, get it done and you got a few days in this thing. Either get a deal or do it yourself, just don't screw up."

Great, I had to stain glass to live under a roof.

"Deal. This thing have running water in the kitchen or is it just storage?"

"Running water, heat, AC, we even got a bio-generator cheap from a friend of my dad's."

"A Bio? Geez, nice going, those things are like gold."

It was the newest thing on the market, an energy generator that runs on its own energy via biological cells and systems. Unlimited energy, but only in certain forms. And it's extremely expensive to manufacture.

"We hook it up to zoids when they need to do scans and stuff. Sometimes a little energy surge goes a long way. That and we like electronics."

Hm, so they use it like a giant battery. Cool.

"And you got two weeks if we can take some pictures of us by your antique."

Hey, the Saix just bought me two weeks of rent!

". . . After you fix it up a little."

Dangit.

"We have a tool set under the deck."

Woohoo! Okay, so life is easier than I thought. Wait, how could I fix it up if the old guy is going to take it? Well, zoids travel faster than cars. . . I have at least a few hours to get the rust off a little. Soon our three zoid parade stopped at a tower outside the Hanger Ring. Clara and Riz flashed IDs, I showed the ID card the old guy made me. The guy smiled and waved us through into a partially open air structure filled to the brim with zoids. Every where you looked, at least one rare zoid and a few commons ones. And a few ones you could tell were high in the Battle Commission. And a few you could tell were never going to be used. We stopped at an empty stretch toward the back Riz had reserved before she left to accompany Clara back here. We were right between either a Gun Sniper or a Snipe master; they all look the same to me. On the other side was a Liger, I had no clue what kind. There are like fifteen breeds and fifteen thousand colors, who keeps track? Yes, I was like a schoolboy in a candy shop. I'll spare you my dancing around looking at zoids dance. I jumped out and noticed a cable outlet next to our assigned space. Must be for power and whatever the heck zoids need. Riz and Clara took the opportunity to stretch and argue over who parks what. I moved the Saix myself, Riz parked the Liger along the other one, they didn't look similar, and so it must not be a blade. They went off to get lunch and I was alone again with the Saix. I wandered back into the Molga and found the tool kit nestled under the floor panels. I rigged up a cable from the bio-generator on the back of the worm. Why? Well, Clara mentioned how zoids react to energy. Well, maybe a little jolt will help the Saix. So there I was walking around the cat trying to figure out where to connect.

"Hey Kid, you never see Frankenstein or what?"

I turned to see a bleach blond guy in a spotless blue jump suit with a black jacket. He was holding a bag of what appeared to be some type of food. He was holding a small yellow thing with something red on one end.

"Uh . . . not following . . . trying to figure out where to hook this Bio up to my friend's Saix . . . "

"The neck, kid."

"Oh, thanks."

"Want a fry?"

He suddenly looked at the cat.

". . . whoa, nice antique. . .You reviving this thing or what?"

"It can barely walk, so yeah . . . wait, what's a fry?"

He tossed a little yellow thing at me. Odd, feels oily . . . yes, my first French fry. Ten minutes later we were sharing fries and discussing the history of the Saix. He seemed a bit impressed. He even helped me hook up the cable to the neck and get the Bio booted up.

"Now, normally you just need a little voltage to wake up a zoid that's a little dusty. Now, I think you need to send this thing out in a lightning storm honestly. Just give it all this thing's got!"

He then said he had an appointment, told me his name was Sam for future reference, and took off in that mystery liger. I watched it leave and turned back to the generator. Okay, maximum voltage, my stuff is out in the Molga so nothing burns, and time to start it up. The start button gave me a ten second timer to move all zoids and humans away from the shock area. Five, four . . . dang, this is slow. And, now! I watched as a white energy field covered the cable, and then completely covered the saix in a matter of seconds. I would have shut the thing off if Sam hadn't warned me it wasn't pretty.

All of a sudden the head moved, it seemed to shake itself just slightly, but it moved on its own! I shut off the flow and stared at the now burnt-looking zoid. Christ, it looked even worse! Then a flake of rust fell off the front leg. Then another off the torso. Then every bit of rust and old paint fell off like snow. It just piled into a ring of red and black around the cat. The zoid was completely unpainted underneath, cold steel. Not too flashy, but it was ten times better than the rust. And now you could see the detail in the joints and armor. There was a section torn away from the legs, no wonder it limps. Inferior parts for ya, they rot away on their own. Well, the outside looks good. I clicked the still rusty remote and it went down to it's haunches, the eyes flashing yellow. Hey, the eyes worked!

I hopped in and looked around. Same as before, maybe a little cleaner from the rust shock. I tapped the console, nothing. All blank. There was a little gauge with a red light that read 'RECHARGING'. Hm, so I have to wait for the battery to start working on it's own . . . nah! I went back to the Bio and set it to continuous flow. The panels lit right up, no flickering. They actually had backlighting now. Radar, a little diagram to show body status, a few data screens. Well, once this thing charges it may start rewiring.

Confused? Well, the old guy taught me about how zoids are made to replicate living organisms. Hence the minor thoughts and the fact they can heal with energy. Only internally though, they can rewire their circuits to adapt or sometimes improve, but good luck re-growing a leg. They're made of metal, duh. And he also explained the theory of Ultimate Xs, all zoids have some thoughts and instincts programmed in, but only those things have minds of their own. So if this thing does manage to rewire and I can repair a few major problems, maybe this thing could be used as a transport. No chance at a battle zoid though, unless the old guy settles down here and we can work on the zoid seriously. Speaking of the old guy, where is he?


	3. Chapter 3

I figured I had another four hours at least. Well, the systems are online, it's down to a bare bones look, might as well get this thing a tune up. I saw a previously dead side screen had what looked like a web access window on it. This thing gets the web? Must have gotten downloaded with the big shock. I love how these things work, you just sit back and watch them upgrade. I typed in an order for some older blueprints for a modern and this particular Saix. In a second I had a side by side view of the factory prints and a print of this exact Saix from the web site of one of Max's fans. Hm, judging by the diagrams the legs are lousy because the parts degraded to the point of just falling off. Modern ones had everlasting ones, so I just need to pick up some new leg supports and joint stabilizers and this thing may be able to run a bit. Wait, I have no cash or job. Wait for the old guy it is then. Might as well play with whatever the heck this Web thing was like. Back in the desert all our web could do was get some files. This thing had pictures. Weird. Hm, odd, the blueprints were part of a series on the search. Might as well look at the Command Wolves for Riz's sake. Standard model, dear god! Look at the supports in the torso! That thing could snap like a candle. The cockpit is a sitting turtle. Hm, what about a Konig wolf? The old guy always ranted about how he loved them in battles. Click click. Wow, looks pretty squared away. Good defense, sniper compatible, great combat skills. And only worth the price of fifteen hundred Command Wolves. Those dogs were military issue, no wonder they're so cheap. Well, the Konig is nice but it's for decent pilots who actually have won a battle. Not Riz, apparently. She's nice and all but huge earrings and super zoids don't mix.

" Trey, you trade in your zoid or what?"

"Yeah, how'd you get the rust off?"

I looked up from the cockpit to spot Clara and Riz. They were both finishing sodas from another fast food place; this hanger must be a hot spot for cheap food.

"Just hooked up the Bio and gave it the Frankenstein treatment. It even has the internet now, gotta love these things!"

Riz ran over like a school girl to look at the cockpit and the head of it, Clara hung back and nodded to herself. She went into the Molga and came out with a camera.

"Stand the thing up, and take out the cable for a minute. And stand next to Riz by the front paw."

Okay, talk about a picture person. Ten minutes later we were arranged like a pot of flowers, and she snapped a few pictures. As I got back to work on the cockpit, some one tapped me on the shoulder. I turned to see a man about fifty or forty, good shape considering his salt and pepper hair. He had another of one those pilot outfits on. Where do you buy those things?

"You Trey? The kid with the old Saix?"

I just nodded at the one I was standing next to.

"A guy named Max Brand just passed through, he told me to tell ya there's been a change of plans. Some family issue down South. He left a letter for you down at the registration counter."

Family issue? Change of plans?

"Thanks, where's the counter though?"

He pointed and gave me directions.

"And right to the left. Just my opinion on all this though, you may of just got yourself a zoid, Chase."

Chase? Who the heck calls a kid 'Chase' casually? Wait, I got a zoid?!

"Whoa. . . um, thanks, watch the Saix, Riz!"

I sprinted all the way to the counter. I heard the guy chuckle as I took off like a marathon athlete. It was a casual looking lobby at the edge of the hanger, a food court right next to it. I stopped at the desk and caught my breath.

"Trey Brand . . . letter . . . please?"

The red-head receptionist smiled and handed me a disk.

"Th. . . anks. . Have a nice day. . ."

I then had to go all the way back to the zoid, panting. The lobby didn't have a disk reader; I'd have to do it in the Molga. These days everything comes on disks, even though readers for them are a bit spaced. That's why they put them in cars and zoids. I came back to find Riz sitting on the Saix's paw, rubbing the remote card for with a piece of cloth, it was so rusty it no longer matched the Saix.

"Disk port, now!"

She just pointed to the Molga. I limped in, holding my side and clutching the console in the kitchen set. I popped in the disk and watched the loading screen blink. The old guy's face popped up on a background of the hanger, he must have borrowed a guy's zoid console.

"Trey, this is Max. I've been here about an hour; I got a good break on traffic. I just got a call from my sister down South; my nephew is about to ruin his life and she's calling the family down to try and get some sense into him. I was going to save this for when you got here, but the Saix is yours. Let's face it, you have a mind for battles, and I have a mind to get myself one of those Ultimate X zoids before I croak. I was going to give you the Saix and have you help me find this one my friend tipped me off about. But family before zoids. You can sleep in the Saix until you get a place and some creds, just tell any old guy in this hanger that Brand sent you. Good luck, and trust the cat. As in the zoid, Trey"

He laughed to himself then turned around and started talking to the guy who told me to get the letter. He always did chuckle at my antics. Then the screen went to a replay icon. The Saix was mine? That was amazing, true, but what was he talking about after that? An Ultimate X? I thought they were all in labs and winning battle teams by now. But back to the important stuff, I had a zoid! A few hours later I was in the Molga, watching my Saix get carried away on a trailer being pulled by a Gustav, along with an Atak Cat and a Rev Raptor. It was like the end of a sad black and white movie. You see, I mentioned to an older pilot that my name was Trey Brand. Soon I explained about Max Brand. Supposedly he owes Max some favors. We struck a deal, he was on his way to a parts warehouse out of town, and he would get the leg supports for my Saix, and even fix it up a bit with his mechanic friends. I could pay him off once I got some income. So I just got my Saix, and I was sending it away to get fixed. So far this zoid pilot thing stinks.

But some good news at least, the old guy entered my name into the Zoid battle Commission. It was his back up surprise, I didn't know until a guy in a ZBC jacket walked up to me asking for me. I figured I couldn't keep my zoid, and I had to get it back before that guy put parts onto it. I even had a pocket-knife behind my back to buy myself time. Not really, just thought it'd be funny. Then he explained my license had gone through. The old guy had recommended me to the ZBC about two weeks before we left town. He gave me my plastic-wrapped PDA license, my wallet with card built in, my programmable key card, and my complimentary key chain and calendar. The guy also looked at my clothes.

". . . So you're the kid Max told us about?"

"Huh? Eh, I'm more of an errand boy."

"More like prodigy. Max was on our Board of Licensing for a decade. He came to my daughter's graduation. We went to college together!"

Then the guy proceeded to tell me about his hijinks with Max. Usually the Commission sent down an intern to hand out the stuff, but he went because he called Max once a week in the desert and heard about how he adopted me more or less. It went from an official licensing to a guy talking about how drunk they got in the frat back home. Soon he was asking when the Saix will be back, when I'm going to start battling, am I going to join a Team?

"Team? Uh, did he recommend me to one or do I have to pledge or something?"

"Well, he started Team Checkmate back in the day."

Team Checkmate? I knew he was a strategy junkie, but that just sounds a bit cliché. That triggered a half hour of stories about the team. Then Clara walked in and chatted with the guy, and I managed to sneak away while they were discussing the Liger Zero and how fast it changes armor. I took a few deep breaths after shutting the hatch behind me. Were all old pilots that obsessed? It should only be a week before the Saix gets back and I could start spotting out teams. Maybe the Blitz Team has an opening. HA! Seriously though, I need to find one with decent chemistry. Might as well look into my license stuff. Well, this little computer thing has a blinking light on it. Email alert. This thing has email? A little window popped up on the screen.

"Gustav Information required, please specify."

Oh yeah, you get a free Gustav when you join the ZBC. Until you join a team and have to give it back. Riz laughed her head off at that one. Gustavs were just an engine and a trailer hitch. The cockpit was the cabin; it had a little bunk bed off to the side. Great, maybe I could borrow their Molga for a few months. And maybe the ZBC will make me a king and give me a hundred Whale Kings and a Genosaurer to carry my food trays. I'll have to give it back once I get on a team, what's the point? I hit the red button on the little device and the message blipped off, and was replaced by a typed paragraph with a signature. Hey, a letter. Dear etc etc, etc etc, Yours Sincerely, The Justice Barracudas Team. Let's see, they say they're stationed in a single apartment in a resident area, that there may be ammo conditions, and to supplement my own equipment. So they're a bunch of poor losers who just found my name on a list and are begging me to join because they're eating store brand drugs. Oh boy, my first offer for a Team that is going to last a week before going bankrupt. Next Message, same thing except for the 'Mach Awesome' Team. These guys must do this like that telemarketer does back home.

"How many offers you get after a day of ZBC?"

"Just two, both duds."

Riz laughed and stopped leaning over my shoulder while I read an advertisement for a soft drink that had been sent to me.

"Man, Clara gets about five a week; those nobodies will do anything to get income."

"Says one lives in one little apartment, the other is 'currently in hiatus'. Homeless?"

"Figures. When my bro' joined the ZBC they sent him like all this free stuff."

"I just got a calendar and key ring."

"Hehe, they'd been scouting him at the Sectors anyway, he was killer at WM."

"WM?"

"Weaponry Mastery, you know, the pilot types?"

". . . I had my first French fry an hour ago. . .fill me in."

"Every pilot is classified by their top skill, Weapon Mastery, Close Combat, Long Range or Aerial Specialty."

"So they all get bunched into types?"

"Well, my brother was the best at WM, but he was also killer with a sniper. So if a guy knows other skills, that's just a bonus."

I nodded and figured I'd need to get evaluated once the Saix was back. And ask for more free stuff. I asked when it gets dark in the Bay, she said it actually stays pretty light out at night but the sun goes down at 6. She asked if I needed a blanket or some bedding for the couch in the Molga. I shook my head.

"I have a jacket, I'll be fine."

She quickly enforced that I should be able to relax, I had been through a bit in my home town and could use the sleep. Yeah, seventeen years of torment could be forgiven with one night with a warm blanket. I kept protesting the need of anything more than what they had given me. But by the start of nightfall I was alone in the Molga, stretched out on the couch in my spare set of clothes and jacket-less while watching a movie play on the screen on the table. While sipping the second soft drink of my life. And reading a clothing catalog on my new ZBC PDA. Okay, so I'd given in. A little relaxation never killed a guy. I can honestly state that night of recorded movies and air conditioning in the lighted hanger was the best night of my life. Sure I was sleeping on a borrowed couch and without proper sleeping attire, but I still slept peacefully for the first time in a year.


	4. Chapter 4

So the latest trend in battle seems to be geometric defense. Standing in a line shooting anything that comes up on the radar. No wonder so many teams are homeless. I'd been up for an hour and reading up on the latest battle news on the Molga console. I'd gotten a few more messages, another C class Team Offer and a bank account update. Max set up an account for me a week before he signed me up for the ZBC, a zoid, a pilot license, a lifetime of teaching, and now enough credits for a down payment on a place to lie down at night. What better way to celebrate than loaf around the Molga trying to entertain myself? After doing some research on whatever the heck Team Checkmate was, I figured I might as well go to the City. I walked, go figure, and had to take a minute to adjust when I first left the Hangar.

People, tons and tons of people. Thousands of them just were hanging around the fields between the Hanger and the Residential Areas. Picnics, catch, long walks for couples. And here I am in my gray/dusty clothes trying to keep the sun out of my eyes with my hat. I left behind my jacket in favor of your standard gray shirt. When I reached the Main Square, I found myself surrounded by stores. One department store advertised a line of clothing 'exactly like official zoid pilot apparel'. Meanwhile a military surplus store provided 'zoid pilot apparel'. So there were the fans, and the real thing. Of course I couldn't shop; I had to save for an apartment. I had to leave; no way could I let myself buy something. I even took a walk through a street lined with resident complexes. Kids, pets, playgrounds, a toy store stocked with little replicas of whatever zoid a child may fantasize about.

I'd gone my whole life without a single toy or game. I had a three legged model of some Liger in my duffel bag; I found it in the trash a few years back. Technically I was an orphan, by now my folks would have forgotten about me. My dad was always grumbling about business reports and getting dressed in a suit even though he was unemployed. My mom never got over the fact they were poor and exiled. She still wore expensive but aging clothes. She used to kick me around a bit, just enough to draw blood. My dad just kept pointing out that I will die in this town. My neighbors didn't know I existed. And this little neighborhood was like on huge family. The elderly on porches discussing politics. The women working on consoles or peeking on the kids playing outside. The fathers and husbands gathered in living rooms cheering on a zoid team that can't hear them. Some of the women too, Zi was pretty equal with that kind of thing. As I was watching a couple walk two dogs I felt a tug on my shirt. I looked down to see a kid about ten or so with a curious look on his blond face.

"Are you a pilot?"

"What do you mean?"

"Do you fight in Zoid Battles and stuff?"

". . . yeah, I guess I do."

Before I knew it I was sitting on a mailbox surrounded by a semi-circle or kids ranging from five to fifteen.

"So you see, an Ultimate X is alive. All zoids can move a bit and express pain, but an X has a mind of its own. Back before the Liger Zero was around, there were a few Xs lying around. A friend of mine swore to Zoid Eve that there was an X that looked like an eagle."

"How powerful is a CPC?"

"The Charged Particle Cannon? Back in the War one of those could fry six zoids in a row just short range."

"What War?"

". . . um, next question."

These kids didn't know about the Great Wars? Did they think that zoids were made for entertainment? Right when a little red head was going to ask something, one of the fathers stepped out and asked what these kids were doing. They yelled that I was a zoid pilot; I just tipped my baseball cap at him.

"You kids and zoids . . . invite the kid in, Jan, he looks starved."

I found myself in the man's house, sitting in an armchair and now surrounded by a circle of grown men asking me about zoids. I heard the man's wife laughing to a friend about men and zoids. By the time they let me go I had a bag of a baked good in the shape of a disc and a photocopy of about twenty articles clipped out of a news program. All I did was say my new last name and these guys started ranting about Max. One guy gave me a copy of his collection of articles about the Checkmate Team. It seems every team that made it to S Class has a museum toward it nowadays. But I remembered while lecturing these folks on zoids that I had a job, I had to tint the glass on Clara's Liger. I spent all afternoon spraying on the tint and heating it with a torch. It was one way so the hatch looked dark green from the outside but perfectly clear from inside. But while I was sitting in the cockpit tapping the glass I noticed her radar had a loose transmission. So I tinkered with the wiring and the program to find out that all but standard green screen was enabled. A couple clicks and snaps and I had heat patterns, motion, structure map and enemy profile up and running.

While I had my head underneath a floor panel I heard a beep from my license PDA, a message from the guy with my Saix, he was at his friend's warehouse. Riz and Clara stopped by around 2 to check on the job I was doing. She asked why the panels were open; I just explained I activated all the secondary scanners and programs. Apparently you have to pay extra when getting a zoid to get those things; normally the dealer turns the stuff on before it's sold. Also apparently I'm an idiot savant of zoids. Needless to say she jumped around gabbing about it. Geez, it's just a few new features, get over it. Then she had to call Riz and tell her I had rewired and upgraded her cockpit. Then Riz had to come over and examine everything, they kept shaking their head when they looked at me. I found out a few months later I was mechanically gifted.

Then all of a sudden Clara took out her phone again and ran into the Molga asking Riz where the list was.

"Kitchen drawer on far left."

When Clara went in Riz smacked herself in the forehead.

"Oh mother of. . ."

My first curse word. . .

"She's calling our relatives. Whenever she finds something hot about zoids, she has to tell everyone. You wouldn't mind checking up on a few other zoids, would you?"

". . . you mean just work on your family's zoids? Sure, I owe you guys anyway."

Dangit, I was so freakin' modest it's scary.

"Eh. . . just a few, yeah. . . "

Clara was busy calling her folks for two hours. Later on I found out she never left the nest all the way. While she was calling I kept working on her Liger, just powering up a few displays and making the processors a bit faster for file work. Riz dragged me away from the tool kit and sent me off to the food court. I'm not sure why, I think she just wanted to talk to Clara about me out of earshot. Halfway to the main part of the lobby I saw what looked like an open basement stairwell with a sign over it. Apparently the hanger also had a tavern/game room for the drunk/young pilots.

I walked down and noticed I blended right in, except my clothes were a bit older. Weird tables everywhere, with green or other color fabric on top with little balls bouncing around into pockets. Nope, I'd never seen a pool table before. I avoided the bar, never drank back home, never drank period. But I looked up to see a row of screen showing a zoid battle. An actual battle in progress! Long story short, I watched two Ligers chased around a snake zoid. One sided battle. But to me it was like watching the planets align. My first time seeing a Judge, a real battle, and how the fields look. I just saved you twenty four paragraphs of 'Wow'.

Then a tall girl in a hat asked me to play a table game. Before I knew it she was teaching me eight ball. Later on I found out she had been hitting on me, but it never struck a brain cell. Soon we were at the bar, me with a water, discussing our lives. Apparently she was a mercenary. She just wore the usual black pilot suit, nicer boots though. She then spent two hours ranting about how she used to have a Genosaurer. My first drunken friend. She soon let out that she had her Geno trashed, and had been in the pits income wise since then. All she had was a salvaged Snipe Master. Now, a Snipe is an extremely amazing zoid, but she must really love Genosaurers. Turns out this is all she talks about, that Geno. Then she was whispering about the Backdraft group and some mission where it was destroyed. All the other bar goers were long since gone, but I stayed and listened. I found out a week later that she was telling the truth. She was Sue Ryder, a famous mercenary cut out from the spotlight after her Geno went bust. I walked her back to her Snipe, where she was living.

By the time I got back to the Molga Clara and Riz were long gone. Clara left a note saying to sleep well. I slept well, after a few hours of watching more zoid battles on the screen after I figured out the remote. I woke up to the sound of a huge, weird looking Liger parking next to us. Clara's father's Snipe Liger. Then her Brother's Desert Liger. And three Blades. And her oddball mother's Rev Raptor. Then every zoid of every family member in a twenty mile radius. Every single one of them I gave the same treatment more or less as I had Clara's zoid. The Snipe Liger I added a radio to though. Lost count of the other twenty repairs/tune ups/customizations.

Yeah, twenty zoids. Mostly Ligers. Soon I learned each breed and type. So no more Mystery Liger references. Then I had to sit at their impromptu reunion, talking to each and every relative for a few minutes, some more than an hour. Then my PDA blinked and I took it outside. It was a message from the guy with my Saix.

"Trey. . . Just started out back after fixing the Saix . . . Accident. Lightning. Your zoid is fried."

My Saix had been struck by lightning on the trip back and burned to a crisp.

Author's Note

My first, and hopefully last ever cliffhanger. I hate review begging tactics. But yeah, his Saix was actually struck by lightning, it's actually trashed, and he's actually named Trey. To the two people who've reviewed, thanks guys.


	5. Chapter 5

I didn't pass out, thankfully. I sent a few messages back and forth, got the fine details. He's had a storm problem on the way back, both my Saix and that Raptor he was towing got fried. He'd gotten the legs fixed, tuned up the engine, and even replaced the cockpit glass. And now it was a piece of melted metal. I told him not to scrap it, I may be able to salvage some parts.

I pulled Riz out of the family reunion and gave her the news. She tired to hug me but I brushed it off. I just asked for a ride. This was the first time I was reacting to something brutally emotional, I just shut down. I found myself doing it more and more often in the upcoming events. I'd give you more details but I barely remember anything, I was just sitting in the Molga next to Clara, staring at the sunset. I'd watched the sunrise in the Saix just a few days ago, and now it was setting and my Saix was gone forever. An hour of silence and those thoughts.

We stopped at the warehouse, the guy had backtracked after the accident. Clara led me in, she probably knew how I felt. She seemed to love her liger after all. And this wasn't a bought zoid, it was a favorite possession. That I'd only ridden once. I saw in the center three zoids, well, two, and one melted mound of metal and paint. I remember just standing there. Clara eventually sidled off to leave me alone. Just a pile of metal. Not a single part was familiar. I couldn't even see any seams in the pile, just a huge piece of molten clay. There was some red tint on it, probably the engine rust I hadn't gotten around to cleaning. I stood there for about an hour. I heard from Clara a few days later I was in shock. Probably from the loss of a loved one. As I finally tore my eyes off it I reached in my pocket and pulled out the rusted remote card I had used to activate it so few days ago. I should have left the thing with my neighbors, a quicker death.

I heard Clara call me over to the other side of the warehouse, she was all excited, like she had forgotten I'd lost my only freakin' important thing in my worthless life. The shock was wearing off. I shuffled over, figuring she was going 'Wow!' over some fancy paint job. I didn't even look up at the thing, I saw it was black and tinted purple and grunted. I then just shuffled back over to the other side, taking out the remote card and throwing it at the melted pile. I heard it click against the sheet metal scraps. Then the sound of hydraulics rising. Wait, what? I must've hit some engine part. I walked onto the pile and grabbed the remote. I clicked one of the square tiles and I heard it again.

"Clara, can hydraulics survi-"

"TREY, GET YOUR ASS OVER HERE!"

My second ever curse word. I jogged over, going from my moody self to my usual curious perk quickly. I nearly fell flat on my face when I reached Clara. The zoid. . .

"Is that. . . is that a Saix?"

"No kidding. . ."

We were staring at a breed of zoid I'd never even dreamed of. Its shadowy shape just screamed it's type: Lightning Saix. Then your eyes adjusted. Black, all painted black. With off-purple highlights on the plate seams. And two icy eyes that would have stared through concrete if they had to. It was a bit larger and leaner than usual, like an adult cat compared to the kitten that is your basic Saix.

Then I looked at it's back and flank. Black vents. Vertical lines. Wait, they stuck out. BLADES?! Blades folded onto the back and sides of a freakin' Saix?! There was no way that was legal! Saixes go at least 180mph, a blade at that speed?! I saw a few small blasters tucked into the sleek armor on the back. The armor was fitted instead of strapped on like basic zoids. This thing had to be custom, or maybe one of those freak zoids.

"Blades. . . that armor. . . the size. . "

"And engine vents in the joints. . ."

Dang, Clara was right. How did I miss that? The joints were a good venting point, this thing couldn't overheat in a volcano.

"That is not a Lightning. . ."

I snorted in disbelief.

"No kidding. . . has to be an upgrade."

I dropped the forgotten remote card into my jacket pocket and folded my arms. This amazing zoid crouched down into a pilot-loading position. Wait. . . did I bump the remote? I grabbed it out of my jacket and pressed it again, this thing got to its feet like the panther it was. Clara looked pale.

"Okay. . . just don't. . . scream out the obvious. . ."

"THAT'S YOUR SAIX?!?!"

"Or do it anyway. . ."

Now a new dose of shock to the old nervous system. Then I heard some one stand behind us. I knew it was the guy who got my zoid fixed then fried.

". . . how did it happen?"

"Brought it in here fried. . . looked worse than that Raptor over there. . ."

The melted metal was the Rev Raptor he'd been borrowing?

"Woke up from a nap a couple hours ago and it was just standing there. . . checked the serial code, it's the same as before. The WTF-6890. That's Max's old zoid, alright. Those codes can't be changed, they're programmed into the core."

". . . so this thing just appeared in my license number?"

"Look at the head. The ears are kind of different, your old one had the same thing."

"Yeah, they have that point on the tip."

"How come you're not dancing around and screaming in joy?"

"Not my style."

It was Clara's though. She hadn't stopped screaming.

"This thing in the books?"

"Nothin' like it in every Saix book I got."

"So, it is mine, right?"

"You'd kill me and take it even if it weren't."

"Thanks, I guess."

"Hey, all I did was leave it out in the storm."

I then spent half an hour dancing around with Clara screaming at every angle looking at it. I had a zoid. I had a zoid! Months later I'd wake up from the shock and spend nights wondering where it came from. But honestly, you get a zoid from a mysterious act of Fate, do you give it to charity? I'll spend pages and pages trying to explain it later on, but for now just be happy for poor little me. When I first hopped into its cockpit I knew this thing was mine for good. New black leather interior, and screens everywhere. But not the standard screens like in the Liger and Molga, we're talking holo-frames. Just floating images in assigned squares. Made it look like something out of those sci-fi movies that never came true. A few other zoids had these panels, so don't get too excited.

When I started it up I swore to god it purred just like a cat. I had it roar, flex it's legs, trot back and forth in the warehouse before closing the cockpit, Clara opened the main door and I tore off, taking a few layers off the concrete of the flooring. I became even more of a zoid addict in a few seconds. This thing moved so fast the horizon blurred. I had to stop it so I wouldn't pass out and had it spin on its heel like I'd always wanted to in my dreams. I was hopping around like a kid with a new toy. Then I looked at the glowing radar. Where the heck was I? Ten minutes of wondering later the Molga pulled up. I opened a com link and Clara's head appeared in hologram form to my side.

"I clocked your take off. 190MPH. Off concrete."

190? This had to be a dream. I banged my head on the console a few times, nope, it's real. And I have the bruises on my scalp to prove it.

"Trey, you're one freaky little guy you know that? First you turn out like the way you do, and now your zoid comes back from the dead."

I'm pretty sure she was drunk or something. We calmed down and later spent hours just staring at this thing, but this is called the stages of Holy Crap as Narrated by Trey.

We got back to the city in an hour, mainly because I kept darting off and doing tricks. I went up to the Guard Tower and waved to the guy in charge of entrance. He nodded in response and popped the gateway, you always get respect with a ride like this. Or get shot out of envy, either way. I trotted through the aisles and popped down in the spot we had rented. I hopped down and took another look. Nope, still gorgeous. Relax, I calm down in a little while. I went down to the food court while the Molga was getting parked. I found Riz at the main office and told her everything that had happened. She pulled me over to a table and made me sit down. She asked if I'd eaten anything that came from a stranger's car.

There's nothing better than the site of two cousins hugging each other and dancing around a new breed of zoid. I figured later on it wasn't because of my good luck, more because it was an unmarked kind. Let's be honest, a Saix with blades? It's like a fairy tale. Blades on fast zoids are like white ligers, they don't exist. Yet here it was under my name and license. Now for a more serious commentary. My zoid had been replaced with/changed into this thing. Yes, I'm afraid. Yes, I kept it because of how fast and agile it was. Want an explanation? Give me a few years. Who honestly cares?

I had a zoid. An amazing, top of the line zoid. I've asked every bar-goer/scientist I meet how it happened. One guy says something about the lightning and the zoid core. Another said it evolved. How could it evolve without one of those dino things they had back in the Big War? I honestly don't know. A zoid just fell onto my lap. I didn't find it, this thing found me. That's what I say, and I'm sticking to it. If an Ultimate X could befriend a Salvage Bum, why couldn't a poor guy from the desert land himself a nice zoid? Oh yeah, one more time, I HAD A ZOID!

Author's Note

Eh, it ain't as peachy as it seems. . . zoids fall outta the sky all the time, but it ain't gonna help out Trey's personal life. Thanks for the reviews!


	6. Chapter 6

Dear Max. . . eh. . . your zoid mutated into a weird new model and it's better than ever. Nah. Your zoid was struck by lightning but survived with some new qualities. No. Maybe I'll just send him a picture of it and let it talk for itself. I was sitting in the cockpit of that very zoid, tapping away on a web screen what I wanted to tell Max. I'd gone through 97 drafts.

How do you explain something like this? Riz and Clara took pictures and sent them to 'The Family'. Most of their relatives responded, they all just said they'd never seen one, and who cares where it came from? I cared, what if this thing has a warhead in it, or it's going to go nuts and end up running around destroying towns? Or what if it just breaks down? Either way, I was equally worried. I finally closed the typing window and leaned back. This chair was great, but it had custom settings on it. I've been trying to program the exact shape of my back into it.

This thing probably had more casual uses in it than the Molga. And it had the sweetest device I'd ever laid eyes on. A little rack that holds beverages. I love this planet. I heard a little beep from the console, I had my email programmed in so I could let my PDA charge. Besides, a lot of people just sit in their zoids typing in the hanger at two in the morning. Three messages, one lame team offer, this one was called the Super Sharks. An email from Clara's sister, I adjusted the neck supports in her Desert Liger, and a message from Max. Oh boy. . . well, it popped up automatically so I can't put it off.

"Hello Trey. I just heard from my friend who fixed up your Saix. I'm not surprised. I've seen zoids change like that at least once a month in my profession. Normally they just get some new features or a paint job, but your/my Saix seems to have gone up an entire level. A friend of mine once has a Saix similar to mine evolve. All it did was give it a sniper rifle and a paint job. My friend who fried the thing sent me a picture. A Saix with blades, Trey. I should have kept that zoid for myself and given you that X my brother talked about!"

A few more paragraphs of Zoid Chit-Chat.

". . . this kid is 14 but his rich parents bought him a GenoSaurer! At least it was just a clone, not a one from the Ruins"

And about his nephew and his moron sister who spoiled the boy. The kid was fourteen, but wanted to start a zoid team. And he wasn't exactly a gifted pilot.

"I'm gonna be stuck here for a while apparently. Maybe a few months at least. Looks like you have a new home away from home, I slept in that Saix many a night and it never looked like that. If you need any creds, and if heck freezes over, you could call the ZBC to classify your new toy, they'll pay you for the examination. Good luck naming that thing!"

I spent two hours worrying and he's actually amused at this?! Well, at least he's not outraged. Then I read the message from Clara's sister, she said the neck work was doing great. She referred to me as 'Clara's psycho mechanic'. They were all amazed at how I worked that long. A psycho? Seems accurate. Actually, it has a ring to it. Psycho Brand? Nah. Psycho Saix? Heck yeah! It fit perfectly! The odd armor, the blades instead of major guns, the paint job. A few other zoids had that name anyway, it would blend in. Okay, I sucked at naming zoids. I closed the message and leaned back, looking out at the Snipe Master parked next to us. Or was it a Gun Sniper? Who cares. That Sam guy had stopped by earlier when he saw the Saix. So did a lot of people. The guy who gave me Max's message even said it looked like an X. Does an Ultimate X have a look to it? I doubt it.

I noticed I was hungry. I'd spent all day fixing the Family's zoids, and then I got this thing. I tapped the card in my pocket and felt it crouch down so I could jump out. I closed the hatch, got it standing again and went into the Molga for a quick six hours of sleep. I managed to sleep with my shirt off, normally it's freezing at night. Well, it is in the Desert, not at the Bay. I woke up to some one tapping me with their foot. I grunted and turned away from the foot. Need sleep, foot is evil for waking me up.

"I left breakfast on the counter, I have stuff to do in the city, be back tomorrow."

Not sure if it was Riz or Clara, might be Clara by the way she didn't slam the hatch when she left. Either way she left fast food. A slow morning of eating, waking up from a lack of sleep, and watching a bad movie on the screen. I walked out to the Saix, planning on going for a run by myself. I reached into my pocket for the rusty remote card, and felt something weird. Something flexible, band-like. Round disc. . . I pulled it out and saw a simple black watch. Digital mirrored face with a silver tint, black band metal band, and a few buttons on the side ideal for tapping. Dear god. First the zoid and now the remote?! What next, is my jacket going to turn black and grow spikes?

I just sighed and slipped the watch on. It fit great, what a surprise. I tapped the main button and it crouched down. This thing better not have email, I already feel like a guy frozen in an iceberg and thawed. I hopped in and started it up. Everything sprang to life, unlike that death flicker I got when I first rode this thing. I just walked through the isles of metal animals, waved to the guard and just took off into the desert. Not fast enough to start holding on, just a quick trot. A few jumps, flips, some darting around like I was dodging an attack. It only took me an hour to learn the new controls. I flipped down the blades. Black, they didn't even glow. I spun around, seeing where they were whenever I turned. I flipped them back onto the sides and shot off a few rounds. The guns were built onto its back, you ever see a Zaber Fang? How there are no guns on the back? That was the first thing I thought with this thing. Just blades stacked against the top and sides, with some holes tucked under them. Actually, they're pretty nice short range guns. Even a basic missile launcher, right near the base of the tail. And no ugly rifles strapped on, even better. I found an empty canyon and practiced a bit of everything, jumps, dodges, slides, the whole routine. Then I got an email while cutting a small crop of rock down with the blades.

"Where are you?! It's been eight hours!"

. . . I'd been gone eight hours? Time flies when you're working hard. I did sprints while going back. I parked it in the usual spot to see Riz, Clara, and a few relatives sitting on the Molga's tail. They made me an offer.

Two Weeks Later

". . . and the Trey Brand Ruling has officially been added to the Sector Documents."

They named a new rule after me, great. What happened? Check out this news clipping.

Saix Pilot Cleans Out Sectors

At the Eastern Sectors yesterday afternoon, literally two out of every three individual events were won by Trey Brand, a new pilot with a prototype zoid. He was unavailable for background information. Clara, Kylia, and Sam Truant, the winners of the Western Sectors relays for the last two years, gave us commentary. Clara said she had recommended to Trey that he try out the Eastern, which she herself never competed in. Her and several of the Truant Family gave Trey an outline of the Games two weeks ago, and did not assist him in any other way. They commented he was not from the area. When he made an appearance at the Pre-Games Ceremony, his zoid was an attention catcher. It is believed to be a ZBC prototype of an upgraded Saix, though that is purely a guess from the audience. It wasn't the zoid that was in the eye by half-point, as Trey exhibited skills that won 14 of the 21 non-team events. This is a new record for a single year, let alone for a new pilot. The ZBC Sectors Offices instated a new rule after the Games citing that no pilot may win more than half of the events, meaning now haymaker pilots will have to cease after winning half of their registered events. The supposed prototype is an impressive model covered in our Technology Section on page V5. Brand, who may be connected to Max Brand of Team Checkmate, was not available for any comments. Wherever Trey Brand came from, he is surely a new crowd favorite.

Creepy, eh? Yeah, I tried out the Sectors. Not the one Clara is in though, the local one. It was your basic skills contest, speed, laps, maneuvers, some gun work that I didn't work well with. Blade use I did great at, same with piloting skill. The crowd seemed amused. I mean, so I set a Sectors record and was the reason for a new rule, no big deal. Clara just got me into it to see how I did, I just happened to walk away with a stack of awards. Max sent me a message after reading about it, said something about talent, skill, etc, wasn't paying attention. I was too busy practicing with the Saix again. I was out there every day now. Now back to the regular chain of events, I don't want to sound like a celebrity. I got my zoid checked out by the old ZBC, they pretty much just took a few pictures. And this thing officially has the name Psycho Saix. Of course people still think it's a prototype. I kept going out and working with the Saix every day. Just a quick eight to ten hours in the desert, next to the bay, maybe in the mountains if I had a lot of time. Let's cut to a particular incident. I was running next to a river, finally getting the seat adjusted. Then an email window, I shrug it off and keep running. A half hour of 'training' later I take a break and read the thing.

"Dear Mr. Brand

I am contacting you not due to financial or social circumstances, but because of your performance at the recent Eastern Sector Games. I myself was present during your Events, and have seen first hand your taste in groundbreaking zoids and pilot techniques. I am of a secure financial state, ten minutes before narrating this I have sold a dying company for seven times its worth. I plan to use this lump sum on a hobby of mine, Zoid Battles."

This guy talked weird. . .

"My initial plot is to finance, support, and maintain three or more zoids in a Team format for non-financial purposes. After observing your skills I have decided to make you an offer. If you are planning to or have already formed a team structure, contact for sponsorship details. Sincerely. . ."

I can't read his first or last name. . . or figure out if he wants me to make a team or if he's coming onto me. A few hours of training later I ask Clara to translate, and find out he wants me to make a Team that he can own and pretty much take care of. Well, actually he wanted three or four zoids to run around while his company's commericals play around the clock. Good marketing strategy. He wanted a cheap team to sue the loophole, of course me being a moron I made a team that would kick more tail than the last six Royal Cups. But do I really want to get involved in that harsh world of zoids and pilots? Why not take up a desk job and wear a suit? Exactly.


	7. Chapter 7

One Month Later

A Whale King? He had got to be kidding. I was sitting on a sniper rifle, reading my PDA email. I just sighed, pocketed it, and went back to welding a swivel on the gun with my light-torch.

"TREY!"

". . . up here, on the over-grown chicken."

"You mean the Snipe Master?"

". . . what do you want, Rax?"

"Did it come yet?"

"Do you see a grey Blade Liger lying around?"

"Eh. . .oh yeah. . . thanks!"

The sound of those weird boots clomping out. Who's he? Well, he's my soon to be team mate. I'd taken up the Guy's offer. His first name was Guy, unlike his unpronounceable last name. Well, I spent a few weeks asking around before I found two pilots that should be in S Class but were stuck in the Hanger. The first a legendary mercenary, the other an idiot savant of zoids. Rax is the idiot. I first found him in a trivia column on the web, this guy has an undefeated streak in the non-ZBC battles. But he always uses a Rev Raptor borrowed from a friend. And he just runs around with his blades out in a circle. Somehow that got him a room full of trophies. I didn't believe it until I saw a gallery of him taking out three Ligers in his usual moron manner. This guy was nominated Luckiest SOB on Zi. He doesn't even own a zoid and he has at least a museum to him on the web. Well, I got him to join up with us with a few offers. 1)I get him a Blade Zoid better than a Rev Raptor. 2)He keeps the Zoid. 3)We need to feed him, he's dead broke. He can't follow strategy, I just would feel safer with an idiot with huge laser knives running around my enemy in weird patterns.

As for the legendary mercenary, remember that drunk girl from the bar? Eh. . . yeah. The one who can't get over that Geno Saurer. With the Snipe Master? Sue Ryder? Well, I asked about getting a military-style pilot at a few bars, all they did was point in her direction. Her pros: amazing skill in every subject, but she can register as a Sniper, but kick rear at everything else. Cons: She drinks, needs constant repairs, and never shuts the hell up about that Geno she once had. I'm serious. I was currently fixing her Snipe after a base mission for some ZBC Agency that never gives its name. She always bangs this thing up. But she keeps saying the thing is fine, I'm just obsessive compulsive about everything. Rax was currently a wreck, the zoid I ordered for him is supposed to be delivered today. I fixed him up with a high-updated Blade Liger. Yeah, the most basic kick ass zoid ever. Well, I'm not paying for it, our 'owner' is. He also is supposed to get us our own base, we're currently in a reserved area in that same Hanger I started out at a month ago. I'm still sleeping in the Molga, actually. But Guy forgot to get express delivery for the Liger. Heck, I would have gone out and got it myself with the Saix if Guy didn't say he'd handle it.

He just sent me a message asking if a Whale King was okay for us, because he was looking into one. Those things hold at least eighty zoids, we have at most, three? And did he mean as a Hanger or as a Transport? Both? Sure, he'll make parking reservations and pay for a zoid, but where are our tools and parts, our living quarters, our flight suits? Okay, so it was Sue and Rax begging for them, I was myself still, even under the cockiness and sarcasm I got from living near the City. I could use the tools though, I can manage the Hanger and the raggedy clothes, but I'm using borrowed stuff all the time. If that Liger ever does come, I have to make some modifications for Rax. Like ditching the gun weights and reinforcing the blades that are his life force. The Snipe will be fine, sure it only has long range and claws, officially. Sue has more illegal gadgets on this thing for her mercenary work than some small countries have in their entire black market. You know the windshield defogger button? Land mines. Cigarette lighter? Cloaking. Emergency exit? Well, it used to be a cigar lighter but I'm getting her to quit smoking. Now it's a Smoke Screen. Between her add-ons and my freaky little Saix, we're at Class A gear level already. It seems all the good teams have freak zoids or Ultimate Xs. Come to think of it we needed a name. Guy was planning on sticking his last name in, but even he can't pronounce it all the time. We could go un-named and let the viewers at home cast a vote for suggestions.

As I finished re-attaching the sniper Sue walked in with a soft drink the size of her head. How did they eat that junk so often? She works out for that lean, super model from hell figure to fill the leather but she can't be that healthy with all that sugar calories. She was wearing her usual leather jacket and standard tight top with black jeans, matching black hair and heeled boots. No, I'm pretty sure she's just weird. She hopped onto my Saix's paw and watched me get my tools together.

"You re-align the turbo sights?"

"Yeah."

"Ya adjust the settings so I won't have to use manual focus again like the last time it backfired?"

"Yep."

"Did you get it to have a bunch of flashy lights and stuff so it looks cool?"

"Heck yeah."

Hey, we were going to battles soon, we had to look good for the audience. And the psychological edge. A tip from Max. The scarier the zoid, the farher away your opponent will be. My Saix looks like an X enough to psych out newbies, her Snipe Master is obviously loaded, and we'll see about his grey Liger. Speak of the Deathsaurer, Rax runs in and yells they dropped it off. A few hours later the thing is custom-tailored to his needs in all its dull grey and gold glory. And it looks just plain boring.

". . . hey, what time is it?"

"Nearly sun down, why?"

"What's the worse neighborhood in the area?"

A while later I was in the Molga trying to relax and get some sleep. No emails, no repairs, haven't seen Clara or Rix in a couple days, and everything is finally calm. Then I get an email from Clara's entire family. there goes my night.

Six Hours

God, the joy of waking up knowing you slept a little. I was on the edge of the couch, my shirt hanging on a chair and my old duffel bag still on the counter I first placed it upon. I really should get my own place or sleep in the Saix. I made myself an instant breakfast before Sue called.

"It worked. It looks great!"

"I figured. Come on, you leave a zoid overnight in a bad part of town, by daybreak it will have some great graffiti."

"Yeah, at least sixty tags, drawings, even some weird designs that make it look like it's satanic."

"Great, instant freak out for the church-sponsored teams. Eh, get rid of the offensive ones will ya?"

It did look great actually. Perfectly gray covered in hundred of letters, symbols, lines, like a cement wall merged with a giant robotic cat. Rax loved it. He was a weird guy, really. Kind of tall, a bit higher than me. Skinny as a wrench. Hair covered by a bandana/wool cap. Not sure which. Greasy face. Rubber boots. Cototn jumpsuit with too many stains to count. Definitely a moron. But hey, he was a great pilot with amazing luck. If Sue could ditch the 'Screw You' expression she has plastered on we could be on a magazine cover.

We were supposed to have a uniform for everything, formal occasions, errands, eating, mechanical, piloting, serious piloting, winter piloting, nude piloting, who needs a whole freakin' wardrobe that you need a Gustav to carry? I had Riz looking at the newer lines for something we could use. I'd ask Sue but something about it but skin tight leather doesn't work for me. She already looked like a Backdraft reject without the outfit, we get it, you're a mercenary! Want to hear our training schedule? Wait till you read about our battles. Nuff' said. Same clothes on my part. We spent the day polishing up our combat programs.

Then Sue got a job on her email. Abandoned base full of slackers, just chase them out. Piece of cake. Why aren't I involved? I'm not supposed to take the Saix outside, it's a possible prototype, media coverage, team date, etc, etc, pfft. I wanted to bust some heads with it. We may not get a battle started for months, why not have a little fun with a good zoid with a trained mercenary in a creepy old base left over from the War? No, I wasn't stupid, just bored out of my mind. Max later explained he had the same problem, battle addiction.

Next Day

". . . that's it?"

"Three guys, yeah."

Okay, mission briefing. An abandoned empire base in the desert, and it was being occupied by three slackers with no life. We had to ask them to leave or scare them out.

"This is the big mercenary stuff you're always ranting about?"

". . . I never said I'd be taking on a pack of Rev Raptors. . ."

We were sitting directly on top of the base, it was pretty much a concrete plain with little boxy buildings everywhere. A few miles wide. We were able to hop up on the roof so this was where we were. This was normal for a little sniper like hers, but a cat-zoid? Meh, takes practice.

". . . that isn't them is it?"

I had the Saix flick its paw toward a jeep speeding away like a bat out of hell.

"Mission accomplished."

". . . so. . . eh. . . who owns this dump anyway?"

What a paid waste of time.

"It's unclaimed, those guys were just disturbing the peace."

"Ah. Well, your lifelong purpose is boring as hell."

"That's why I signed up with you, beats talking to my Snipe out here."

"Well, I got to see an old Imperial Base at least."

"Huh?"

". . . it's an Empire Base. . ."

"Like the War? This thing could be full of scrapped zoids?"

"Probably."

". . . I'm claiming this piece of dirt."

"Go for it."

My first missionary mission. How fun. On the way back she got her payment on her account and we just shot the breeze while running across the black desert in giant robots. Her snipe was pretty fast, it was up there with some of the lighter ligers at least.

"So where did you get that thing after you lost that Geno?"

"Custom, had a few favors coming."

"You choose the standard color?"

"I use Cloaking, does it matter?"

"In the ZBC they have to see you eventually, why not paint it black at least? It'll match the other two."

"How long would it take?"

"Couple nights in stages, faster if I use cheap paint and go heavy later on."

"You'd spend your spare time working on my zoid?"

"What else would I do?"

"You still live in that girl's Molga right?"

"She won't need it for five months."

"What if we start traveling?"

"I can rough it, the Saix is comfortable."

"Guy really wants to get a Whale King?"

"He's loaded, let him."

"The spare rooms would be nice."

I spotted the city on my map screen. I tapped in a command and let my hands slip off the controls; the auto pilot is still the same.

"If we get to S Class, what's the first thing you're gonna do?"

I watched Sue's hologram head laugh.

"Get another Geno with the money, take up some hobbies."

Of course, that dang Geno.

"Hobbies?"

"Ya know, sports, a gym membership, a pet or something?"

"So you want to take it easy."

"Don't you?"

I tapped my foot against tile.

"I have a roof over my head, that's heaven."

"Maybe you could go into zoid engineering?"

". . . Sue, a month ago I was living in a dirt farm, no big words!"

Another harsh laugh.

"You like rebuild zoids all the time, why not do it and get cash for it?"

Why not? Never thought about it. Before I could make a comeback a blip came up on six screens. Com request. No visual, just a new voice.

"Hello, is this Trey Brand?"

I did a scan of where this was coming from, behind a canyon a few miles off, a zoid console.

"Yeah, that's me."

"Whoa! Dude, you're like. . ."

. . . remind me to teach myself fan-slang sometime. I basically listened to this kid rant about the Sectors in an excited voice for two minutes while I typed a message to Sue explaining my situation. Then his zoid came out from behind the cliff. I swear to god I heard Sue curse, even though her com was off. Starts with Geno, ends with S. It was completely standard though, same old black and purple, red eyes, probably no CPC, just the toned down version for the mass produced ones. Still amazing though, just dull. So a rich fanboy with standard taste in zoids. Wait. . .rich. . kid. . . dull. . . Max's nephew? Before I could ask he zoomed off with a quick farewell, going off in another direction.

". . . what a little freak. . ."

And Sue was back.

". . . did you hear any of that?"

"He was doing the same thing to me, except asking me out on a date."

Months later I would laugh at this. The rest of the trip faded without talking, we got back to the Hanger, got the zoids cleaned and checked, and then Sue used the Charged Particle Cannon.

"Is there any space left in that Molga?"

So her Snipe WAS uncomfortable, Rax owed me ten creds.

". . . one couch, and it's taken."

Needless to say I ended up on the floor with her using my couch, bedding, food, and a few of my shirts to sleep in. I was too busy training and working to notice anyway. For the last time, nothing ever happened. Haven't you ever shared a place with a friend of the opposite gender?

The next day our sponsor, Guy, finally showed up at the Hanger. He was your basic stocky guy in a business suit. Nice guy, actually. Lots of jokes, good stories, and a wife on his arm that you wanted to shoot like a can off a fencepost. He talked to us about the Transport, funding, and papers, she complained that this place smelled like grease. And that my fashion sense was dated. And that Sue was a skank in a sleezy outfit. And would Rax help her out around the housework some time for some pocket money. This guy loved zoids, she didn't. No wonder he was so aloof about it. I felt sorry for the poor guy, or Guy, whichever works. He loved the job we did on our team, my Saix adjustments, the Blade Liger, even the newly painted black Snipe. And finally some good news.

"I got the papers down for a smaller Whale King, should be enough until you guys go for a custom."

He even knew that a smaller one would work better? I loved this guy. His wife dragged him away an hour later, leaving us both relieved about her leaving and the soon to arrive supplies. Rax even made an intelligent statement.

"Now all we need is to set up some battles."

True. Who the heck were we going to go for? Everybody starts out in C Class, we'd be against, well, the biggest losers this side of Earth. Yeah, that bad. Sue got an idea pretty fast. She was sitting on the Liger's paw filing those ridiculous nails. She was still wearing the sunglasses I'd met her in. She wore those things even in her zoid.

"How about we just let them come to us?"

Author's notes

Sorry for all the dialogue, I'm putting up two chapters to make up for it. Sue, Rax, Clara, Riz, Guy, of course Trey and pretty much all these new faces aren't from the anime. You may here some Blitz Team references, some historical stuff, but no over-used series chars.


	8. Chapter 8

So, let the losers who think they're S Class challenge us? Sure, sounds great. We then had a long conversation about how lame the C zoids are. Then Riz walked into our Hanger area.

"Trey, Clara needs her Liger fixed or something. She's been looking for ya for a co-HOLY. . ."

She was staring at the three dark-tinted zoids standing over us. The Saix she hadn't gotten used to, and now she had to look at the Liger from the ghetto and a creepy sniper.

". . . You guys are just scary. . . "

"Thank you."

"Back at ya."

"Meh."

I re-aligned some parts on Clara's Blade, usual work. Riz kept by my side though. She had gotten her hair done I guess, it had highlights now. Still those huge earrings. She soon started talking about uniforms she'd been looking at.

"I mean, you could use a good jacket, that one guy is in a mechanic suit, and Sue needs to take off the sunglasses."

I argued a bit over my needs, their needs, and how Sue won't let go of those things.

Before I knew it Sue, Rax. And myself were in Riz's civilian car on the way to the fashion district. Do you really want to hear about six hours of fitting, materials, and suggestive tightness? Didn't think so. We managed to sneak off later, just to regroup in a bar. Hey, a battle was on the screens and being reviewed by the patrons.

". . . Those all the same teams are terrible, the Lightning Team is good but these copycats need to stop these trio-tactics."

"How come smoke-screens are so popular? A good radar and they're screwed."

"I just don't like the paint job on that Sinker."

Then Rax opened his jaw.

"Hey, we're a Team, any tips?"

Before Sue or me could knock him out everyone was looking at us, and asking what zoids, what area, what Class, everything. I sighed and answered a few.

"We have a few good zoids, we have to start out in C Class."

"You guys should try Doomwings, they're the top C out there."

"What they running?"

"Iguan, Stealth Viper, and a Redler."

". . . I'm serious. . ."

"So am I."

We talked it over back at the Hanger. Do we really take on such powerful zoids? I mean, what if the Redler uses its toothpick sized blades? Or the Viper wraps itself around out blade-covered zoids? Come on, take out some midgets, one step closer to S Class? Sure, why not.

One Week of 'Planning' Later

I always imagine our first battle from the viewpoint of a bar-patron who just got back from the office. He gets his usual stool, and hears from the guys they're watching C Class. Watching terrible pilots with terrible zoids fight each other is terribly fun. Hey, they got Doomwings coming up. The guys who are the best of the worst. The Judge touches down, and announces the standard battle mode. Doomwings walks up; they don't have a transport, and struts their zoids for the camera. The Redler is the leader, some hot shot guy who spends all his time in the air while his buddies are getting whacked. The other two are just his sidekicks, they never do any interviews. They all have these gaudy flight suits with huge logos on the chest. And the stupidest buzz cuts ever. They get into formation, waiting for the guys they challenged. Wait, what is that?! A Whale King?! A small one, but still, these guys must be rich punks or something. The mouth opens and the three shoot out onto the desert floor. The battle area is your basic flat desert, not a base or a canyon like the fun battles. Then the dust clears and the camera focuses on the new team.

Dear . . . god. . .that is the most beautiful cat zoid I've ever seen. . . BLADES?! Ten years I've been watching battles, and a Saix with blades?! It switches over, a Blade Liger. Covered in graffiti. And with the blades already out like they don't fold. And now a black Snipe Master, pretty standard looking. Then they do pilot info. That's the guy form the Sectors! Rax?! I was just watching that guy last week! He joined a team? Sue Ryder? Didn't she . . . whoa, they have a real mercenary for a change. What was this, a celebrity battle?

The judge waves the battle on, and Doomwings doesn't move, just staring at the new team. And the new team. . .just . . . looks at each other, like a few animals having a conversation. The Snipe eventually shrugs, turns itself around and in a flash the Redler across the arena is hit with a snipe blast. Then another. Then six more before it hits the ground and freezes. She hit the thing right on the weak points! Now with their leader gone, the Viper and Iguan just take off in the other direction. If they leave the Field they'll forfeit and it'll be a lot easier on them. Wait, the Saix is standing in front of them? Just a second ago it was miles away in the other direction! Instant replay. . . that thing is faster than the camera?! The network manages to slow it down just enough to catch a blurry Saix pouncing the Iguan, and then goes back to normal speed to see the lizard on its side and smoking.

The Viper takes off again, maybe it'll reach the border. No, it's headed the wrong way, the idiot. Now the Blade Liger just trots up like it's having a morning jog. Ten minutes later the viper is in pieces, that's Rax alright. That zoid was made for him probably, better than those raptors he uses. The judge goes to raise the red flag, but it's just standing there. It finally gets over the shock and announces the red team has won. They don't have a name? They won a battle in ten minutes, and they don't have a name?! Wait, what strategy were they using? The patron asks the others. Not a clue. They just took out one a piece and sat there waiting for the others. Either these guys are morons or the best guys since Team Checkmate. Wait, Isn't Trey Brand . . . these guys ARE Team Checkmate! They even have similar zoids! Max Brand trained the kid in the Saix, no wonder they fight like that.

Now the network is zooming in on the un-named team, the Saix pilot is sitting on the head staring at the judge. He has a black jacket on over a dark gray shirt, with baseball cap over his eyes and sunglasses on the bill. Ha, the kid looks like my son when he goes looking for girls. Now Rax leaning out of the Liger head, he just has a black jumpsuit on and that same bandana. Now that mercenary, skin-tight black leather with a jacket similar to Trey's. But the jackets are over their shoulders, it's the desert after all. Not too flashy.

The announcers are just silent, these guys are amazing. Then they kick up and start ranting about the pilots and the Saix. Then a window pops up advertising the fact these guys have no name, please send in ideas. Every guy in the bar takes out their PDA, laptop, cell phone, wrist watch, and starts sending in the same word. RECKLESS. That's what the other team is screaming at them from their smoking zoids on the air right now. Team Reckless.

Now back to my normal point of view. So we've been christened Team Reckless. Sounds better than Checkmate. Now, what the heck were we thinking in that battle? Just beat 'em. I just used the Saix's paws on the Iguan, Sue used her snipe, and Rax just did his thing. What's hard to get? Why are we in the papers? But how about that little Whale king? Just got it yesterday, it's half the size of a normal one, holds about twenty or so zoids, and a good deal of living space for when we travel.

"Yo, 'Chase', polishing the claws after that little match? You didn't even use the Blades."

I look up from my perch in the cockpit to see Clara walking into the Hanger on our new Whale King. It's huge; we could really have twenty zoids in here. And it came with a gift, a complete supply of tools and machines for maintenance. And Rax bought some junk parts from a scrap yard so we can experiment. How did Clara get up here anyway? We're what, 30,000 feet off the desert?

"Your owner let me in during the battle; he did some errands while you guys were dodging the papers."

"So he has a remote for this thing?"

"Yeah, fits in a shirt pocket no problem."

"Huh. Well, autopilot is all we need with something this big. Wait, 'Chase'? Were you talking to that old guy in the Hanger or what?"

"Yeah, actually. He was in the bar where we were watching and was laughing his head off. Come on, you had to break the sound barrier to catch those guys on the other side. You were just waiting there."

"I didn't clock it, just did it."

"Either way the bars are calling you Chase Brand. Max's old nickname."

"Eh . . . great, great."

I had my first battle three hours ago, and they already had a nickname for me? Rax has that LSOB thing, Sue is untouchable, but Chase? Honestly.

"So, how do you like our private Hanger in the sky?"

"It's nice, must be roomier than the Molga."

"Only by two hundred times, but yeah."

She laughed. She had her usual jacket and pants on; she was never a fashion critic like her cousin. Same ponytail braid. She hadn't changed her mind about me since she first saw me use her Liger a month ago.

"So have you told the Family?"

"Maybe after a while. It'd be funny if they call for a repair and I tell them you're off in A Class with your own team."

Hehe, it would actually. They probably thought I was just a mechanic.

"Your sister with the Desert Liger has been sending me messages; she is a bit odd ain't she?"

"Yeah, she's a bit clingy."

"So what did you think of the Blade Rax was using?"

"It doesn't work like mine at all."

"Exactly. I pretty much made it a knife with legs."

"The Snipe is pretty nice too. Too bad it's probably all the way evolved."

Evolved? Dear god, not this again. I took a seat on the nose of the Saix, I had been yelling my comments down to her about twenty feet. Max told me about how evolution worked, high sources of energy, specifications, abilities, all that jazz.

"What do you mean fully evolved?"

"Gun Snipers turn into Snipe Masters. Not sure if there's anything after that."

We had another boring conversation about it. Sorry for all this dialogue, I feel it's important somehow. She left after snapping some pictures, and I got back to my work. New tools, old parts, and one psycho mechanic.

For the first time in a month, I hadn't gotten any team offers. Just sponsor offers, interview requests, personal ads, and a few fans. All from one battle. Did that guy in the Liger Zero get all this after he had his first battle? So we set a few records. Don't any other new teams come prepared? I also noticed that I had nothing to fix. Not even Rax's Liger needed a dent cleaned. The gray Whale King was new, so no adjustments there. Spare time bad, must find work.

Six hours of sleep later I woke up to an email buzz, sleeping in the Saix has some bad sides.

"Trey. . .pick up."

"Huh?"

"It's a remote comm. System, Trey."

"Max?"

I banged a tile and watched as his head popped up in the usual hologram space. He had gotten a hair cut and hadn't shaved, but it was Max. Same old piercing expression, reliable face set, and eyes that either question you or ignore you. Except when you get to know him.

"Chase Brand. . .'bout time some one got the nickname since I quit."

"You saw the battle?"

"Six friends sent it to me ten seconds after they saw it was you."

"Eh. . . how did we do?"

"Did you waste any ammo?"

"Nah, one shot hit dead armor on Sue's part, me and Rax used combat."

"Good. Soon I want you guys to switch from ammo to lasers, it's expensive but it'll save you thousands."

"I'm working on it. But how did the Saix move out there?"

"You mean how did YOU move? Trey, that flash thing was amazing. Did you even use blades? The camera was too slow for that."

"Just pounced. It was just a lizard. And if I went from the side it would have started digging."

". . . Exactly. Love the paint job you guys have, by the way. You guys are sponsored, right? That one guy who did an interview?"

"Whatever his last name is, yeah. He's paying for most of this."

"Who's getting the prize money?"

"Three ways, and the repairs are covered by the sponsor."

"There are a few things you guys need, some of which your sponsor can't pay for legally."

"Go on. . ."

I wrote everything down and we chatted about his nephew, who had indeed went through the area and contacted me in the desert.

"He was learning how to use the boosters, he was calling everyone he saw. I should have snipped a few wires to save him the beatings. He's traveling around the area, and he's like what, thirteen?"

"Nice zoid though."

"It's mass produced, there's nothing like the real thing."

"He's really going to start a team?"

"His folks are buying a few more Genos for his friends."

"You're kidding me."

"A bunch of preteens with weapons of mass destruction."

"Why are you calling me at four in the morning anyway?"

"Figured you'd be sleeping, didn't want to catch you during a mechanic gig."

We talked zoids and patterns for a while before he had to leave, I was going to wake up before the sun anyway. We were currently on top of that one Hanger, in a spot reserved for aerial transports. Were we ever going to leave this dang garage once and for all? I got lost for an hour before finding the rooms where Rax and Sue were sleeping, and found there was a house inside this thing. A kitchen, living room, dining, library or something, and a few empty ones. I had a bedroom in here? I'll look into it later. I left a note for the guys and grabbed some creds from an envelope Guy left us. Then I got into the Saix, went down the mouth ramp and jumped off the Hanger roof into the line between the desert and the green meadows of the bay.


	9. Chapter 9

Not another training day, just an errand run. I came back an hour later dragging a container on a hover-sled behind the Saix. By the time Sue and Rax were awake I had already finished welding and painting.

"Trey, you awake already? Geez, you must have gotten up at like. . Eh. . Noon or so . . . what did you do to my zoid?"

Her Snipe Master had some new qualities. Mostly due to the fact the rifle/tail is now completely black, longer, and even jointed at places instead of ramrod straight.

". . . laser capabilities, no ammo. Close range targeting motion, long range distance increase, and an upgraded targeting program under the hood."

"What, a one shot knockout isn't enough for ya?"

". . . it can kill a fly now."

". . . sounds fine."

Rax butted in, wondering if I did anything to his new zoid.

". . . There's a second cup holder?"

"Sweet. . ."

Rax is easy to please.

"Can we try it out?"

In minutes we were in a canyon connected to the bay in our zoids.Sue tinkering with her aiming program and twitching the newly flexible gun tail around, me working out blade formations, and Rax watching the fish jump out of the canyon river into the bay from his Liger cockpit.

"Anything to shoot at?"

Sue scanned the horizon, the snipe rotating perfectly on both its feet.

"Trey, check out northeast nine degrees."

I looked into the Saix's radar and caught a power signature. I zoomed in on it with the visual view and saw what looked like a purple dinosaur jumping up and down.

"Max's nephew is still down here?"

"That's him? The moron in the freakin' nice zoid?"

I nodded.

". . . Shoot to kill."

She spun on a dime and her tail straightened perfectly at the speck on the horizon. I heard a warning from my console, high energy shot incoming. She shot out the little energy blast without a sound, like it had a silencer. I kept looking at the visual of the kid jumping up and down like he just discovered the jump button. I watched it suddenly flip back and land on its side, automatically getting back up due to its hover jets. It spun around as if looking for a guy with a BB gun.

"You see that?"

Sue was in her rotated cockpit, looking at it from down the line of the massive rifle.

"Yep . . . twenty creds says I can get him to fall into that river."

All of a sudden the rifle started inclining till it was pointed up like an old cannon. Something popped up and I saw a poof of dust on the zoomed in scope.

"What the heck was that?"

The snipe tilted back down to snipinglevel.

"Land mine."

I watched the scope.

"He's going around in circles looking for who shot him . . . and. . . Boom. Splash. I'll pay ya later. That thing can float right?"

"Yeah, the jets should get it back to dry ground."

"Those factory-made junkers have safety programs up to the wazoo."

"Yeah, speaking of add-ons, I really love the extras this thing has."

"So what other gimmicks you use?"

With that her zoid took on the appearance of the rock and sky, a primitive cloaking device. I could see it of course, but it may save you a few hits. Then she re-appeared and dispelled a large cloud of smoke that went away in a few minutes. Then a small pink shield. And I'm guessing she had boosters tossed in. And she still wanted a Geno saurer? Why? Oh yeah, speed, power, firepower, the whole electric claw thing.

"Hm, nice. It'll come in handy to trash more losers until we move up a class?"

"Class B?"

"There is no Class B, not enough mid-level guys. Class A or bust."

"So we just keep walloping guys until they say we're at Class S?"

"Yeah. About five more battles before we get considered to stay or move up. That's the system. We may luck out and get out of C pretty quick."

"Would it be possible for just one of us to take out a team of losers?"

"Sure, I guess."

"How about we just talk it over when the battle starts and the best match goes to work, the other two relax?"

A very good idea actually. Then Rax popped up on the com.

"Guys, I just got six emails from a bunch of girls!"

". . . How come Rax gets the entire female fan base?"

"They dig skinny guys with bandanas?"

"Did they do the polls on us yet?"

"Yeah, Rax is getting the older female crowd, you're getting the tech buffs, and I'm drawing in teenage girl viewers."

". . . eh. . ."

"Don't even try it. . ."

Battle number 2, the Team With No Name. I'm serious, that's their name. Cannon Tortoise, Cannon Tortoise, and Cannon Tortoise with a big gun. We launched out the Whale King, got next to each other, and fired up a link.

"Okay, they're just sitting out there; they'll go for a ground-snipe."

Sue had a decent scope on the snipe to pick up on that. I cracked my neck and grabbed the steering controls.

"I'll handle it, cheap shot their guns, and keep Rax out of the way."

"Good luck."

I peeled out on the sand directly left of where the Cannons were, quickly getting to 200 an hour and circling around them, their guns rotating weakly to try and catch up. I start leaning into the curve when a sniper shot hits the large gun on the third tortoise, perfect opportunity to flip out my blades and side swipe all three. Two go down, the big one stays up by one leg, I spin on a dime and go for a slower-than usual side slash, hitting the brakes and sliding a few hundred feet after its console freezes. I have the cat look over its shoulder at the toppled turtles; they aren't too beat up, just knocked out. At least we're not being too hard on these guys.

"**_And the winner is, Team Reckless!!Bzzzzzzzzz!"_**

Ten minutes. Only a half hour of battles more before we're out of this class. We crawl back into the Whale after waving to some hovering cameras and chatting with the losing team for a bit. Nice guys, just not really into zoids. It was pretty odd feeling the thing hover off into the sky; it took a while for us to adjust to high altitude. I checked out all the zoids, no damage. Check the news program; we get a thirty second blip, woohoo. The laser sniper paid off, it was more accurate because it doesn't wave in the air like solid ammo. She actually severed the energy routing to that one cannon turtle, it was that accurate. We were still doing these rinky dink desert arenas.

"Okay, we got another match in a week, Trey. You're not spending it in the Whale."

"Gotcha."

"Or the Hanger."

". . .okay."

"Or the Molga."

"I hate you."

"Come on, it'll be fun."

The next day I was sitting in a dark room, in a padded seat with a hundred other people, most of them with snack foods. At least Sue was next to me, eating a food made out of radioactive corn. It was pretty much a huge screen playing a movie you can't get at home yet. It was a good story, nice plot, decent acting, nice effects and camerawork. But it kept cutting away to people. . .eh . . . my first R rated feature. Then we snuck into a movie starting nearby after the first one ended. Then she dragged me through a leather store where I was a replacement for a wheeled bag rack. She had me carry at least ten bags on each limb. Then she helped me move my small duffel bag from the Molga into the Whale King. How difficult. Then we watched a movie screen in our extremely bare, empty living room devoid of furniture. And she used my duffel bag as a chair. Then I helped her decorate and arrange her room.

And did the same the next day. And the next day. The day after that her friends were in town and we did the same thing except with them tagging along. I used to think Clara and Riz gave me an education. But Sue was just so freakin'. . . well, cool? She actually bought me a new hat. And fighter pilot sunglasses to sit on the bill forever. We had another battle, some Liger knock-offs. We just let Rax loose on them, and me and Sue just took shots when they got into medium range. My aim is if anything below average with these blaster things, I'll stick to speed. Another win, a minute on the news, and two weeks of spare time. This time we brought Rax along. What Sue wasn't a part of was the fact I was out in the Saix while she was asleep in the morning. That gave me six hours, that girl was a log with a tranq dart in its neck.

At least six hours a day of running, maneuvers, blaster work, blades, jumps, breaking the sound barrier to freak out people a few miles away. I love that boom sound you get. And I finally added something to the Psycho Saix, a breathing mask. Well, actually it's a portable version used in the military, a clear mouth/nose piece that concentrates oxygen for fighter pilots. I used it so I wouldn't pass out at top speed. And you can talk through it perfectly normally, I love technology. I'd been looking up our reviews on the web; they had sites dedicated to team analysis. Get this; we were half-way decent. Our tactics were an echo of Team Checkmate, go figure. That was what I had in mind when I got the team offer, three or four individual fighters, and one alliance. That was Max's mantra about his old team.

They still had those weird names for Rax and his uncanny style and luck. I was still 'Chase Brand II', so what if I chased people down? Was the II necessary? Max isn't exactly active in the battles anymore, he's happily retired I'm pretty sure. Sue still didn't have any nicknames or trivia. Give it another battle, her mercenary rep will turn up and she'll be in neon just like me and Rax.

The day after the wannabe Liger battle, I rolled out of my blanket (no furniture in the Whale yet) and found a wrapped package jam into my forehead. Huh? Colorfully wrapped boxes? What the heck? My birth date had been floating around in my pilot info, some people had found out I'd be 18 today and left me a few things. No party thankfully, just gifts I felt guilty accepting. Honestly it took a few people by surprise; most people assume early twenties at least. Sue was around 22 or 23 I was guessing. Not sure about Rax.

But back to the packages that jammed me in the eye. Clara sent me a model kit. But get this; you know that three legged liger model I had in my bag from when I was a kid? I used the kit to patch it up so it can sit next to my Sectors awards. It's still gray and a bit rusty, but it has four legs. Riz sent me a gift certificate to get furniture. I love that huge-earring-clad gal. Rax left me a photo montage he had made. Wait, Rax made montages? I always imagined him finger painting. A montage is dozens and dozens of pictures made into one pattern or image. It showed a picture Clara took of me and Riz standing by the saix the day we met, when it was old and limping. It then had some pictures of it when Max was using it. And of course it had the battle and Sectors photos of the Psycho Saix in action. Engraved on the bottom of the frame is a little gold piece of metal reading 'EVOLUTION OR DETERMINATION?' It was the headline used to describe me after the press caught scent of my zoid and my background. How true.

Our sponsor sent me a book program on the history of the ZBC battles. I even got a brown paper box shipped from Max, a fully armed utility knife. He once spent a month explaining to me in the desert when I was twelve; he had never been able to fully describe the high-tech pocket knife. He always said he'd just show me one someday. Sue got me something I'd forgotten to even think of while getting uniforms and even while out shopping with her. New shoes. I'd been wearing those old combat boots since I came out of nowhere, and here was a pair of shoes/boots/trainers that were actually my size. High tech, comfortable, and they didn't make too much noise like my old ones. Maybe that's why she gave me them, so she could sleep while I was darting around in the garage.

I arranged my gifts next to my blanket on the floor of the bare room and walked out to the kitchen. Wait, what's that smell? Dear god. . . Sue was cooking. She wasn't burning or blowing up anything like a sitcom, she was just stirring up some trays of eggs and bacon.

". . . I didn't know trained killers could do housewife stuff. . ."

"I have to provide for myself, that includes cooking."

Hey, she didn't shoot me for a stereotype comment.

"Where's Rax?"

"Sent him out for more food, this kitchen is empty; we have to stock this place up."

"I'm sleeping on a blanket and tile/carpet, no kidding."

"You spend hours detailing big robots, but you don't take care of yourself?"

". . . I'm living out of a duffel bag, sue me."

"How'd you like the gifts?"

"Completely freakin' sweet!"

Then I spent a minute ranting about how great it was. Then I calmed myself down, had to stay aloof and serious.

". . . quiet little guy aren't you?"

We were about the same height, both over six foot, little guy?!

"How about we burn two weeks by getting this place on par with a motel room?"

"Huh?"

". . . Get furniture and stuff."

"My room first!"

I had learned the art of calling it.

Author's Notes

Well, there's going to be a Blitz Team Cameo coming soon. And only two more battles before A Class and things get interesting. Reviews welcome if not mandatory, and thank you for reading.


	10. Chapter 10

DISCLAIMER:Once again, I don't own Zoids.I do own Trey, Sue, Rax, Max,Riz, Clara, the list goes on. Also the concept of the Psycho Saix is mine, along with a few other zoids in the planning stages. And my Ultimate X theory is up for grabs, but just mention me if you ever make millions on it.

That certificate for furniture came in handy, got a good deal on a dresser, desk, and a basic rolling chair. We shelled out some cash for a very nice bed, it even reclines and curves at different points for reading and watching screens. Rax already had furniture from his rented apartment, Sue had her stuff in storage and we were moving it out, and I had the clothes on my back. We ordered my furniture off the web and set it for express delivery, and Sue took the opportunity to look in my room at my bare floor, duffel bag, folded bedding, and a sealed cardboard box.

"What's in the box?"

"Those things they gave me at the Sectors, they engraved my name onto everything and shipped them to me."

". . . you mean that's like a dozen trophies?"

"Yeah."

She shrugged and looked at Rax's gift, that montage of the Saix.

". . . it really used to look like that?"

"All my life. Then it evolved, mutated, changed, whatever."

She leaned closer to the frame to look at a picture of me leaning on the Saixat the Sectors.

"Are you heading to the Western Sectors?"

"Nah, Clara and her relatives are competing. I only did the East because I needed to test the Saix out."

"That Clara chick's family is like all zoid-addicts, right?"

"Yeah. I had to fix like twenty of their zoids when I first got here."

"Any of them in the ZBC?"

"Sure, a few of the guys and the more serious girls."

"What about that Riz girl?"

"She's been looking for a good zoid to start out with, she wants to do battles."

"She a pilot?"

"Not sure, Clara took her out in the Liger once in a while for lessons."

"What zoid was she lookin' at?"

I knew what she was thinking.

"Command Wolf, but she wants to fight out West, it'd get trashed."

"Well, if we get a fourth pilot we can do quad battles, just have her sit out."

"In a Command Wolf?"

"Trey, you'd get to mess with a zoid from the ground up."

"You call her and get her to register, I'm gonna go check out that old Empire Base."

"What?!"

"The place has been sealed for years, it's gotta have some good parts in there."

10 Minutes of Giddy Saix Running Later

I looked down at the wreckage of the door to the base, these blades were great! I walk the cat into the pitch black warehouse and turn on night-vision. Huge place. Dear god, it's full of scrapped zoids. . . sweet! Let's see, Raptors, half a Saix, what appears to be a liger, and Sinkers galore. All of them long dead, trash strewn around by teenagers, and even some old tools left over from the War. I trotted to a different section and found what appeared to be a pile of limbs, guns, and torsos. Jackpot!

An hour later I was dragging a covered sled full of rusty parts and watching the desert cliffs against the setting sun.

"Now, how to make a Wolf Riz-proof. . ."

A beep from the console, and a screen goes white with blue lines. I spin to see a complete blueprint set up.

"What. . . the. . ."

"**_Command Wolf Urban Assault. Codename: Juggernaut."_**

Wow, it was pretty nice. . . wait. . . this cockpit didn't have a voice program. . .

"Um. . . confirm voice program?"

"**_. . . voice program?"_**

. . . that sounded familiar. . . geez, it sounded like that interview I did for the news.

"**_Voice programs are just a bunch of phrases, this is a vocal copy of your voice and parts of your language use."_**

. . . it was talking just like me. Same tone.Even with spacing, slang, everything.

"_**. . . say something already!"**_

". . . what. . . the heck. . ."

"_**You already said that. . ."**_

"WHO THE HELL ARE YOU?!"

"_**You've been riding me around for a month now, you should know your own zoid by now."**_

"My what?!"

"_**. . . it took me a while to copy your speech pattern, I would have spoke up earlier but I think growling and roaring is for morons."**_

". . . you. . . are. . . you're like a Black Box?"

"_**Huh?"**_

"That organoid thingy the Liger Zero has; the thing everybody won't shut up about."

"_**I guess."**_

"So you're alive?"

"**_Have been since that little storm incident."_**

". . . so you're one of those X things?"

"_**I honestly don't know or care. I mean, I have a mind, sure, but do I have to be labeled like that AlbinoLiger and the Ginsu Dinosaur?"**_

"Hehe, yeah, the Fury does look like that. . ."

"_**I know you want to tell everyone your zoid can talk, blah blah blah, but first things first, I'm not going to do this to anyone but you and maybe a few non-morons."**_

". . . I should be freaking out. . . I mean, you're alive, but I really want to loom at those blueprints."

"_**. . . just get over it. A lot of zoids are like this."**_

"Really?"

"_**Yeah, they just have extremely stupid pilots."**_

". . . then how did that Cloud guy get to S Class?"

"_**You mean how did the Liger get to Class S, any smart hunk of metal can trick a human into getting in."**_

Holy crap, I was talking to a cocky, sarcastic giant robot.

". . . eh, have you ever fought for me? As in it's not me, it's your mind doing everything?"

"_**Not yet, I just let the command system kick in and take a nap."**_

"Can I break down screaming now?"

"_**Knock yourself out"**_

MY SAIX IS TALKING! MY ZOID IS ALIVE! Wait . . . is this a dream? Am I a scizo? I mean, it's talking in my voice. Then again, who cares, it even says it never interferes. We chatted until we got to the Whale King with my load of parts.

"So you think this Juggernaut wolf thing is good enough for our team?"

"_**I guarantee it, me and Max used to take these things on all the time."**_

"Eh, should I bother telling Max?"

"_**He probably wouldn't care. The sniper on his team had a living zoid, back in the day we were common. Now it's like one in a hundred. Dang factories."**_

So my zoid was talking, and it was recommending a weird type of Command Wolf for an inexperienced pilot. Meh. Beats the desert. He shut up when we got into the Whale Hanger. I wonder if it speaks and hears through the speakers or something. I dumped the sled of parts onto a platform and hopes out and ran for the mechanic console. I tapped a button and the platform of rusty parts glowed for a minute before the rust flaked off. I hooked up a Bio-generator to the loading dock, figured it would come in handy. As I was going through my findings Sue walked in with a paper print out.

"Done raiding graveyards for spare parts?"

"Yeah, got a good sled load, found some blueprints, and my Saix is alive and talks."

"Cool."

". . . I said, my Saix is alive . . . and it talks."

". . . oh, cool."

She kept reading her print out.

". . . eh, that doesn't bug you?"

". . . _he_ kind of told me last night. You were in the bathroom, we made fun of your sunglasses/hat thing."

Sue and the Saix made fun of me while I was in my bathroom?! I managed to keep my jaw from dropping.

"Does Rax know?"

"Yeah, he's hiding under his cot still."

"Hehe . . ."

"_**Yeah, he screams just like a blonde in a horror flick."**_

I looked up at the non-moving zoid.

"I thought you were going to shut the hell up!"

Sue laughed.

"Psy, you told him you'd be quiet and a good little robot?"

"_**Hey, it was funny."**_

My zoid, was a jackass. Alive, talking, possibly an Ultimate X, but a jackass. Wait, Psy? (pronounced 'Sigh') Oh, short for Psycho, how clever.

Riz agreed, thank god. She said just give her the zoid and she'd join. Well, first I had to make the zoid. The parts I dragged back proved to be pretty usable, some we'd have to modify but for the most part I had all I needed to use the blueprints. Now we needed the main body.

"Sue, call Guy, we need a top-of-the-line Command Wolf."

"Why not take an old one from that base you just scrapped?"

"The processors would take days just to get running, and a fresh zoid core can be modified easier."

"I thought you were just gonna modify a Wolf, not make a new zoid!"

"Just order the parts, and tell Rax that my Saix talking was just a dream, we don't have time to explain it to him."

I was in a hurry because if we didn't get everything ordered today it might take weeks, and the best way to remake a zoid is all at once so the systems don't reject it. Sue flipped off her shades and raised an eyebrow at me.

". . . you seem to be calm for the owner of a living zoid."

". . . by morning I'll be insane, don't worry."

With that I walked out of the hanger of the Whale and into the living quarters. Rax was nowhere to be seen, probably hiding. Poor guy. They say he hasn't been the same since he fought some psychotic Gun Sniper to settle an argument. I flopped down into my empty room and shut the door. I spent a few hours staring at the wall.

". . . a talking zoid. . . "

Come on, what would you do in my situation? Run around to tell the ZBC? Call a priest? Try and get rich by selling it? I more or less blocked it out of my head, just get used to it over time. I did this whenever I was stressed about something weird and/or major. I'd spent weeks researching zoid evolution, changes, modifications, and Saixes in general. I almost had it figured out when it started talking.

"Okay, Trey. . . just calm down. . ."

That was myself talking, not an intercom or a giant cat thing. I wiped off some sweat and set up the viewer on my PDA for a holo-chat, and dialed in Max's serial. He picked up after a few alerts, he'd grown his hair out a bit but it was the same old Max.

"Trey, what the heck happened? You look more stressed than usual."

". . . Max, it's the Saix. . ."

He quickly became alert.

"What now, did it evolve again? Did it change back?!"

He looked a bit worried, probably over my future in battles.

". . . I was just out running in it. . . it started talking through the speakers."

". . . talking. . ."

"I thought it was a voice program until it started a conversation."

". . . your voice, right?"

"What?"

"Did it copy your voice?"

". . . yeah. . . perfectly."

". . . is it cocky, serious, what?"

"A bit cocky, probably sarcastic."

"Ah. Well, most Saixes are like that, even the silent ones."

". . . Saixes are arrogant?"

". . . well, not as much as Ligers but yes."

"Max, how many of these things are there?"

"My friend had one, helped out in battles a bit."

"You mean he had an Ultimate X?"

"No, just a regular Gun Sniper."

"That could communicate. . ."

"And move on its own."

"Like that white Liger. . ."

". . . that Liger is one of many that are fully alive, but it's body is what really defines an X."

"I'm not following."

"There are powerful zoids, there are X zoids, and there are powerful X zoids."

"So a black box doesn't guarantee S Class?"

"No, it'll mean you'll have some extra help and a companion."

"But what about that remember attacks thing?"

"Huge help. But I never had one, and I came out on top for a good while. The zoid doesn't matter, it's the pilot."

". . . what if this thing is like the Zero? A whole new breed, and a black box?"

"Then I'd suggest getting an expansion on your bank account."

". . . Max, it makes fun of me behind my back."

". . . all zoids do that. . ."

". . . Oh."

Author's Notes

Yeah, a talking zoid. But is it another Cliché Ultimate X, or is this just your average talking zoid? This is my first correction to the original zoids universe. Zoids are alive, no author denies that. But only fancy Ligers can communicate? I think an Ultimate X is just a living zoid that happened to get lucky power-wise. Is the Saix one? Either way he's a character now. 'Psy' will be used for humor and mood setting, instead of an instant S Class ticket. And he enjoys scaring small children who get too close to him in parking lots, and moonlit runs with attractive Sabre Tigers. To use another age old cliché, this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship. Complaints? Suggestions? Singles Ads? Go ahead and reveiw.


	11. Chapter 11

DISCLAIMER: I don't own a few chars in this chapter . . . if you can't guess which ones, go to your parent-people and ask for more sunshine capsules.

A night of forced sleep later I woke up to knocking on the sliding door of my quarters.

"Trey, the furniture guys are here."

"Gah. . . fine, fine. . "

I pack up my blanket, duffel bag and box and move into kitchen to watch one of the screens for the news and to munch some type of bread. I watched two workers move in the bed/couch, desk, chair, and shelves. One of them asked for an autograph. The three of us signed a piece of SBC stationary and bid them farewell after giving them drinks for the labor. I found a spare screen lying around in a storage room and fixed it to my wall, make it more comfortable I guess. I could paint on a later date, for now I had a bed at least. Still two more weeks of free time. Just shoot me.

Sue surprised us all by not wearing all black. She actually wore a loose gray shirt, no more awkward ceiling glances. She fixed herself breakfast and talked to me while unpacking eggs.

"I have to go out of town to check up with my sister. Be back by tonight, but will ya try to update the cockpit in the Snipe? I saw those holograms in your overgrown cheetah, if you're so work-obsessed at least get us up to your level."

"Thought you'd never ask."

"Oh yeah, Rax is gonna visit his girlfriends bayside."

"You mean. . ."

"I said plural, I meant plural."

"Dear zoid eve."

"And don't spend all time talking to your zoid and jumping off cliffs, do something fun!"

Twenty Minutes Later

"That last cliff was freakin' sweet!"

"_**Oh yeah!"**_

Get this, me and my zoid shared a hobby. Doing random tricks for no reason, massive practice, and jumping off cliffs. I, or should I say we, were next to the bay on the west side where those ridges are. And want to know something scary? I was lying back in the chair with my hands under my head. This thing operated itself. And pretty dang well too. We'd jumped off about five cliffs in a row, our next battle was in a canyon. And I/we wanted to scare the competition with some risky antics. Four hours later we finally quit and were walking back to the Whale.

"_**. . . wait, she did mean plural right?"**_

"Yeah. How does that guy get the female audience?"

"_**. . . you're asking a multi-ton piece of metal why some guy gets all the girls. . ."**_

". . . you have no idea, do you. . ."

"_**Not a clue. . ."**_

This whole living zoid thing wasn't so bad.

"_**Yo, we got a blip coming seven o'clock."**_

Translation: zoid approaching from behind and to the left.

"Breed?"

"_**Workin' on it. . . hey, a Raynos."**_

"How high is it?"

"_**A bit higher than this cockpit. This guy is nuts!"**_

I checked the radar manually. Yeah, some guy in a green Raynos is flying low enough to clip the ears off this thing.

"Open a link."

The speakers clicked and a hologram head appeared. A bit small, tanned, young features and spiky black hair slicked back with gel.

"Hey, Saix guy, whaddaya want?"

. . .okay, so he was a jackass.

"Eh. . . what's with the nice zoid but the suicidal piloting?"

"The name is Wild Eagle."

". . . what nationality is that?"

". . . my name is Wild Eagle."

. . . ah. So he was a bit of a weirdo. He hit a boost and soon his little bird-lizard was shoulder-shoulder with my jogging saix.

"Trey Brand, ZBC."

"I'm from the Blitz Team."

Holy. . . freakin'. . .

". . . you're the little sciz-I mean the aerial guy, right?"

"Heck yeah, first time a Raynos got to S Class. Hey, you did the Sectors a while ago right?"

". . . yeah. More or less."

". . .oh yeah, Team Reckless. You guys get to A Class yet?"

"Nah, two more before we get decided. Where's the other guys, anyway? Don't most S Classers spend all their time together doing commercials?"

". . . Bit is off running around with his Liger, not sure why. Brad is about a kilometer back, and Leena is chasing both of us."

". . . what?"

". . . don't ask."

So the psychotic ammo hog is chasing the mercenary and the fly boy. Where are the paparazzi? This, I gotta see!

"Eh, be right back."

I broke the com and ran the opposite direction where 'Wild Eagle' came from. Sure enough, there was a standard blue Sniper with non-standard guns shooting at a sprinting Shadow Fox. So this team got to S Class? They were trying to kill each other! Out of nowhere a Hover Cargo pulled up behind the Sniper, their owner must be trying to break it up. And he put up a public com signal, his head popped up next to my arm, he must be trying to find the fly boy.

"Leena! It was just a container of noodles!"

"_WITH MY NAME WRITTEN ON IT!!_"

That was scary. . . So far they hadn't noticed a black/mauve Saix with blades just sitting on it's haunches a mile away. Maybe that's a good thing.

"She's gonna mess up the Shadow Fox! Hit her with a dart or something!"

Probably the mercenary . . . hey, she stopped shooting in random directions. She was spinning around wildly. . .now she's facing me. . . now her huge guns are spinning. . .

"WHAT ARE YOU LOOKING AT?!"

"Eh. . . maybe we should. . ."

"_**Eh. . . yeah. . ."**_

Before the assault came I was springing in an arch going around behind the Hover Cargo. Oh, what the heck. I reached onto a hook over my head, put on that oxygen mask, and went full speed straight ahead. 190. 230. 290. Soon everything was blurred but I kept at it, just going in a huge circle. Then I saw what looked like a small dart over the Saix's shoulder. A homing missile? Hey, I was moving the same speed as a homing missile! I strafed left, it followed. Was this thing slow or was I moving fast enough to see it in bullet-time? After a minute of running around it just exploded and was swept back to nothing and I hit the brakes, spinning until the claws dug into the sand.

The Hover Cargo hadn't moved, and the Sniper and the Fox were just standing there. A com opened up, I was still breathing through the mask. At those speeds you needed one not to pass out. I slipped it off and accepted the com link. An older man's head popped up, long hair in rolls, wide eyed, tanner skin probably from being in the sun. He looked like a kid in a candy shop, kind of.

". . . is that a Psycho Saix?! Oh my god, is there a model kit for it yet?! Where can we buy one?!"

"Dad!"

"Leena, did you see him run circles around your ammo?!"

"Yeah, but that doesn't mean we need to. . ."

"OH MY GOD, TREY BRAND?!"

. . . happy place, happy place, happy place. . .

Now they're all doing it! The red-head is ranting about me running past the speed of sight, her father wanting to buy a Psycho even if it's a one of a kind, and the mercenary just shaking his head at the situation, and mumbling about dodging is easy with 'Leena'. I was staring into space while they ranted. I had out-ran a bullet? Sure, Max had gotten pretty fast in the day but I may have clocked a land-speed record.

"_**Pssst . . . these people are freaking me out. . ."**_

Oh great, now the giant robot is scared. Do they always do this at random encounters?! So they see a zoid move faster than the human eye, shut up already!

"What if we kicked off some one and had him join?!"

These people hadn't noticed that I wasn't talking.

"We could take apart the Saix and make it into armor for the Liger Zero!"

"_**Sayonara. . ."**_

I'm not sure if it was me or the Saix itself that sprinted out of there. I got my mask on and we were moving about 300 pretty soon. The Raynos flashed by at one point, probably wondering how they scared me off. I didn't stop breaking the sound barrier until we were locked up in the Whale King. I popped up and email, panting for breath.

"Dear. . . Guy. . .whew. . . we're not fighting the Blitz Team! EVER!"

"Treeeey. . ."

"Gr. . ."

"Trey. . .time to wake up. . ."

"How about you go. . ."

". . . fine."

I took a stylish combat boot to the temple. I'd fallen asleep on the seat of the Snipe Master. Sue was decked out in her usual all black, but was wearing shorts. And no jacket. Welcome to the desert, land of hundred degrees in the shade this time of year.

"Ow. . ."

"Serves ya-whoa!"

Her cockpit had been gutted and completely rebuilt to match the top-notch one in my Saix. New super-chair, screens everywhere, and all of them holograms and force fields. No cheap plasma displays. I'd even painted it to cut glare. And it was all a huge aiming system.

". . . Trey, did you do this to the Liger too?"

"Yeah."

"Is that a cup holder?"

"Yep."

"Can it do everything yours can?"

"You mean get the web, massive communications, seat adjustments, etc?"

"Does it?"

"Sure, but it's all a huge aiming program."

She pushed me out of the seat and looked out the hyper-glass at the hanger.

". . . wow."

"Can I go back to sleep?"

"No, you have to show me what everything does."

Okay, two hours later.

". . . and the chair temperature scale is right there."

"Sweet! It'll be great for that Q and A demo down West. . ."

". . . can't you people leave a freakin' post-it note?!"

We were taking a quick trip down West. It was only a three hour flight in the Whale, I loved this flying fish/mammal/robot.

". . . did some one give Rax the schedule clipboard or is our owner a moron?"

". . . we get to check out old bases and cities."

". . . fine, but one more trip and we're changing our name to Team Pointless Sitcom."

Notes

Sorry about the off-time, couldn't log in or put up the chapter due to the upload. But hey, it's all good. Maybe some non-US people will see this. And maybe I'll wake up tomorrow and NOT want to lift weights over and over again.


	12. Chapter 12

We didn't leave till about noon, so we ran out to the shopping district to pick up some food. Okay, a lot of food. Okay, three carloads. We were stocking the kitchen, sue us. While Rax and Sue were loading cans I wandered into a room down the hall from mine in the living quarters. I opened it to find a gym-sized room full of windows. The Control Center in the whale's head. The bridge, the cockpit, whatever. It had dozens of chairs in case this thing was for the military. And a view of the desert that was amazing from the over-stuffed captain's seat. I looked over the controls while Sue walked in and whistled.

". . . oh boy . . . now you're a ship captain. . ."

"So . . . this thing is like the king of transports?"

I played with the spinning chair and jumped up to look around more. I saw what looked like a huge section of seats with a console row in front of each one, all stacked together and facing the cockpit. A section of walkways and stairs separated each one.

". . . This is like a base of operations. . ."

"These smaller Whales are used for like Teams with sponsor business, ZBC officials, and the backdraft owns a bunch of these."

"So it's like a business center in the sky with zoids?"

"More or less."

At least fifty chairs and computer stations, each one ready to do a job. And only three users. All facing a glass wall that curved so the sunlight bounced off everything.

". . . This thing can be piloted by just one guy or by remote?"

"Yeah, amazing."

"So this thing hovers, flies. . ."

"Underwater. . ."

". . . geez."

"Well, just type in the place and we can get going."

"The hanger secure?"

"Everything's strapped."

I just shook my head to myself and found a computer that looked central. I typed in the coordinates and in seconds the entire chamber was alight with systems running. I heard the engines kick up. I watched the desert disappear slowly as we rose straight up then slowly moved forward, nothing but blue sky and clouds banging into the glass wall like pillows. I sat down in the captain's seat.

". . . To think some of us still drive. . ."

I spent the three hours making myself familiar with the control chamber, the systems, the engines, even the guns strapped onto the belly. Hey, all guys have to check out their new toys. Soon the temperature dropped due to the altitude, and I was later in my new leather jacket and thin leather gloves that came with it. I pried myself away from that glass wall and went back to the living quarters, or what we nicknamed 'The Pad'. Rax was looking out the window in his room like a kid on an airplane. Sue was watching a movie. In pajama bottoms and a hooded sweatshirt. She was actually dressing like a normal girl, scary. She's starting to ditch all-leather while around us two guys. Gee, I wonder why. But the sight of a top-notch killer of all trades in pajamas lying on the couch watching a movie and making a sundae is just creepy.

We were really starting to become a family. Well, or at least detached siblings. We had ordered paint for The Pad, this place looked pretty comfortable but some pictures on the walls wouldn't kill us. I sat down next to Sue and remembered that this trip had been mentioned three days ago. My head had literally been in the hind quarters of a liger, so I hadn't heard. We basically were taking a leisure trip/business demo out west. Colder Climate, more abandoned cities for battles, and more trees. We had to just strut around our zoids and do some non-desert practice so people can remember us when we start battling out here. We had another hour before we went low enough to see anything.

"You gonna do anything mechanical while we're on 'vacation'?"

". . . maybe I'll pick up a nice Command Wolf to work on."

"Why not order one back East?"

"Western zoids are a bit easier to work with, less sand erosion and scrap parts."

She rolled her eyes while watching the movie.

"I used to live out here when I was a kid, loved the snow."

"Loved the what?"

". . . oh yeah . . . you grew up in a weird town, and the East on top of that."

". . . I know what snow is. . .just never saw it."

"I gotta take you to some real places while we're in that city."

"Real places?"

". . . you need to learn a few things about people, and less about metal animals."

"So, night clubs."

"Some call it that, yes."

I rolled my eyes and noticed we weren't even making eye contact while talking. The second stage of friendship. I looked over at a window then back at our barely-furnished living room.

"So, is this our base more or less?"

"Yeah, we're one of the smaller teams."

"Why do people invest in a huge transport, then buy a huge hanger to sit around in?"

"Some feel home has to be secured to the planet."

"Home?"

". . . oh yeah, you're a charity case."

"So people insist on following traditions we brought over from Earth?"

"Yeah. Speaking of planets, you can adjust to the gravity change right?"

". . . what?"

"The gravity difference between the East and the West, you're okay with it?"

". . . um. . ."

". . . eh, you thought Zi was perfectly rounded. . ."

". . . so the gravity is different in each region?"

"We were in the heaviest section."

"Why do people live there when it'd be easier in light sections?"

"Resources. You have to import everything in the low-gravity countries."

". . . so the rich live where they can weigh less. . ."

"Exactly."

"So when does the gravity change occur?"

"Probably soon."

"So there's just like an invisible line where everything just changes?"

I saw Rax walk into the kitchen bouncing a rubber ball on the floor.

". . . hm. . . you don't think. . ."

Sue shrugged, we were both seated so we wouldn't feel anything. Right then a thud was heard as Rax stumbled and his super ball accelerated in mid-air into the ceiling and back down while he got his balance.

". . . so super balls are even more fun in the West. . . sweet."

Rax finally caught his ball and took a seat, the trauma of his trip probably scarring his simple mind.

"You okay, Rax?"

"Sure, sure. . . I just need a bigger super ball."

Sue smirked.

"Get one of those huge fifty cent ones, we're living the high life now."

Rax wasn't always the idiot we all know and love. I mentioned my run-in with Leena Toros, right? Well, back in his early days Rax ended up going head to head with her in an argument. She had just reloaded her newly made Gun Sniper. Rax here was the first victim of that Wild Weasel thing. He gets flashbacks when you mention it, so we just steer clear of that topic. Seriously, we're not going near that Blitz Tem not because of the Liger and it's forms, not because of that Shadow Fox, not even because the scizo fly boy. Who gives a psychopath a Gun Sniper?!

From the ground, all cities look similar. But from the air, everything is in bold print. The Bay City is more scrunched, the hanger stretching from one point on the pier around the city back to the pier. This city, whatever it was, was built in a whole different way. First bold points, trees. Evergreens, oaks, maples, every common tree you read about are right here. I knew there was a little tree somewhere in my home town, but this was too much. The whole city had been built almost between these trees. Sidewalks, roads, housing, all there but made in a way not to disturb the forest.

The buildings were mostly if not all made of glass, not a hint of cement anywhere. And they weren't all square. There were museums, halls, centers, every building unique by shape of by style. The housing was like something out of a suburban fairytale. Nice big houses with big yards on the outskirts of the beautiful buildings. And it was all in one huge circle in the middle of pure, unfiltered forest land. The Zoids hanger was on the perimeter as usual, but instead of the wavy two stories around the Bay, this one was five layers, in a perfect circle with different entry points all over. Our gray little Whale landed on the southern edge of the huge circle, on the very top of the five-story hanger. We walked out the mouth ramp, and then ran back in. It was freakin' cold. Every night in the desert was enough to freeze, but during the day? My first average climate.

We came back out ten minutes later, me in my new jacket, Sue in hers, and Rax put on an extra jumpsuit. Sue even let her sunglasses occupy a pocket for a change. I looked at the other aerial transports on the top hanger. A lot of Whales, even one Great Whale King. It had to be ten times the size of our little one. Even some of those flying shark zoids. We went down an elevator into the closed lower levels. Wow, this place was top notch. Hundreds of zoids, no dirt or grease. And no pilots in sight. You could cough and it would echo. All these zoids were expensive, some hard to maintain, but no pilots or mechanics. All spotless.

". . . eh. . . I think this is just storage for collectors. . ."

Sue whistled at some of the dino zoids parked near us.

"Geez, you could take three Genos and they wouldn't be missed."

". . . I think they're all rigged into a security thing."

"Huh?"

"Rax, go run up and kick the leg of that Geno with the gold highlights."

He nodded his bandana-covered head and ran up and did so. It didn't do anything. He just looked at me and kept kicking.

"Hey Trey, why don't these guys have security?"

Sue answered for me.

"Private Hanger. . .the whole damn thing."

That would explain it. This was like a zoid country club. Or a trophy room. Right as Rax was going to break into the cockpit with a wrench some guy drove up in a tiny electric cart. Wow, this WAS a country club. He was wearing a spotless white mechanic suit, probably a wannabe.

"Why heeello there! Team Reckless, I may presume?"

Sweet, a Scottish accent.

"Yep, that's us."

He nodded and looked all of us over. Somehow Rax was back with us, how did he get from hunching over a Geno's head with a wrench to standing there like nothing happened? Nah, too dangerous a question.

"Brand. . . Ryder. . . um. . . Rax . . ."

He more or less tried to start conversation while he took us in his cart to the entrance, we had to meet our sponsor's business partner. A quick car ride through a nearly empty highway into a spotless building. Spotless elevator, spotless secretary office, and now a huge office occupied by a huge desk with a huge chair behind it. It was turned toward the window, just like in the movies.

"So. . . now this guy is going to spin around and be evil?"

Dang, Rax was getting smarter. We waited for ten minutes, until a woman in a business outfit walked in. The chair was empty, go figure. She was about forty or so, still pretty young looking. But extremely easy going. Dyed orange/red hair, pale, laugh lines. Brown eyes with contacts making them a bluish color. And a chirpy, even more easy going voice.

". . . Sorry, had a late appointment. The bum couldn't pick his coffee."

And an easy going laugh. And here we were, dressed in black, standing in front of the chairs like we were going to take over the world.

"Eh . . . your partner sent us to see you."

"You mean Guy?"

Great, no last name problems. Sue took over, me and Rax took a seat in the huge chairs. Everything in this city seemed to be big and spotless. Sue moved closer to the desk where the woman had taken a seat.

"Yeah, he said this was for publicity."

The woman nodded and looked past Sue at me and Rax.

"My sons spend all their time watching battles, no need for an introduction. I'm Ellen Arran. Trey Brand, Sue Ryder, and Rax, correct?"

We shrugged, Sue backed off and sat down in a chair.

". . . god, if you guys had been there when Guy said he wanted to own a team. . ."


	13. Chapter 13

The interview itself told us a few things about Guy which aren't very important. Except for one tiny little detail.

". . . This is suicide. . ."

Sue was lying on the couch in the fetal position; Rax was shivering under his bed probably. I was making myself something to eat.

". . . So, he is having us have a match against Team Backdraft, what's the big deal?"

Idiot, idiot, idiot. . .

". . . Trey. . . Backdraft isn't exactly a Team. . ."

Two Minutes Later

"We're dead, we're dead, we're dead. . ."

Now I was the one in the fetal position.

". . .dear god, well, what kind of zoids are we talking?"

Sue checked the printout on the table.

"Um . . . the Elephander?"

Yep, we were dead.

"And six Rev Raptors."

. . .okay, slightly more dead to a lesser extent.

"Well, where?"

"A busted up old city."

"Wait . . . what region?"

"Northwest, why?"

". . . What time of day?"

"Trey, spill it."

The day of the battle

Once again, I take you to that guy in the bar watching battles after work. Not much has changed. Maybe a 'Team Reckless' beer sign on the wall. The guy on the far left got a haircut. And our little audience member just got new shoes. I'm not sure how Backdraft releases footage, so this is a guess. Maybe a guy ordered a movie from one of the screens with a code he got from a friend, and he reads the list of battles scheduled against our favorite twisted gambling empire. Team Etc, Team Etc, Team Reckless, holy crap that one that one, etc. And all his close friends, including the little executive with the new shoes, gather around. An abandoned city or possibly a base pops up on the screen, a black Judge Capsule visible on the horizon.

The camera is panning quickly, trying to find the action. Something blips and the focus is quickly on a large zoid tromping next to an old warehouse, the infamous Elephander. It appeared to be grappling the Saix with its trunk, like two swordsmen dueling. Of course, Stroller used his trademark giant pink shield of in your face-ness. The Saix kept its distance but kept lashing out whenever it had a rare opening. A small energy burst hit behind the elephant, must be the Reckless sniper. The next shot hit right on the flank of the large-eared tank. Suddenly the Saix moved back, its head tilted a bit. How does that Brand guy make his zoid show emotion like that? It's a bit obvious they _just_ found out that the shield doesn't protect from behind. The Saix then literally disappeared; it was like a special effect when that thing got to top speed. A radar screen popped up for the audience, showing where it went. The networks had given up on trying to film that thing when it got going, that is one slick alley cat.

The elephant showed annoyance, Stroller always was a drama king. The Snipe Master was probably hiding on a roof somewhere, but where was Rax? Stroller was now trotting as fast as possible toward where the cat was, Brand must be talking to him and exchanging witty banter comprising of how stupid Stroller's mullet is.

Well, ten minutes later that giant slug got there. The Saix was lying down like a tired cat, waiting for it. The two continued their little duel, while the camera switched to what appeared to be the scene of a holocaust. No, it was just Rax running a circle around the wreckage of a group of Raptors. He stomped happily on the last of them and ran off toward the distant flashes of blades. Geez, that guy has got to have friends in high places, or he made a deal with people in low places. The camera finally figures out where the Snipe is, she's on a roof watching Felix the cat and Dumbo on steroids fight over who is more important to Disney. Eh, all we had was old 2D films back in the Desert, sue me.

The snipe hopped off the building onto the concrete and took off sideways. No idea where Rax is, the cameras lost track. Back to the duel, Stroller was still using the shield and that trunk-blade, they were sparring next to yet another warehouse. The Snipe ran up from the open side and started firing wildly at the tank. What?! The sniper was pulling a Toros! It didn't dent Stroller but he backed up a bit. Then all of a sudden there was a grey Blade Liger on the back of the Elephander, riding it like a dog in heat.

The entire bar is watching, and laughing. Rax had jumped off a roof onto its back, the shields powerless. And now it was stomping around trying to shake it off. Six guys started taking pictures, a Liger mounting the scariest zoid in the ZBC, perfect! He was ramming it into a wall, trying to shake off Rax, and it was braking the ears off the thing. And what was the Judge doing? Laughing his cocky little aluminum ass off. All of a sudden there was a notice saying Stroller had conceded. Why? Did the Backdraft not want this getting out? Or was Team Reckless blackmailing Stroller into giving up or everybody would see his zoid being taken advantage of by a Liger? Dear god. . . .

Yeah, we used blackmail. The Elephander is unbeatable, but threatening to release hilarious pictures of a guy's zoid in that position is just. . . well, you see, deep in the recesses of my mind is a hamster asleep in his little plastic ball. Well, when I saw Rax turning the Elephander into a cheap date that little hamster turned over in his sleep, making the ball move.

Technically, this isn't a formal battle. We still have to fight a bit before getting into A Class, this was just something Guy cooked up. Guy's partner let us in on exactly why he wanted to manage a team. Well, he wanted to use us for advertising. And he also enjoys gambling to the point that when the Backdraft see him walking down the street they tell the accountant to clear up some room in the vault. But hey, it was a seven on three, triple prize money. Plus a lovely picture to put over our mantle, with the caption 'Having a bad day?' Geez, Sue has really had a negative influence on me. Ten minutes after leaving the scene of the crime we were sitting in the kitchen in our pilot suits discussing the formal matters of post-battle reflection.

". . . and then he started BEGGING us not to take a picture!"

. . . hey, I learned soda can come out your nose. Sue was pounding the counter and trying to catch her breath.

"God, god. . . I'm keeping a camera in the Snipe from now on."

Rax and I, also laughing even though I barely got it.

"Whew. . . to think if we lost he would have taken our zoids. . ."

The intercom buzzed. The heck? We were all in the same room! I blinked and pressed it, and heard my own voice coming out of the speaker.

"_**. . . why does the Liger get to do photo ops? I mean, could you have even taken a picture with me laughing my tail off at him off to the side?"**_

Sue checked the back of her camera.

"Yeah. . . got you in three different phases of laughing. . ."

"_**Thank, you. . ."**_

And he buzzed out. Don't ask where he learned to use the intercom. So, how did having Psy around change our lives? How are we reacting? Well, it's pretty easy. Psy just hangs out in the Hanger watching movies; somehow, I honestly don't want to know. He's pretty handy in battles, and in casual conversation. And he keeps to himself most of the time, so we don't have to listen to his cocky remarks all night long. If he would only stop chasing Rax around saying he ate people, we'd be fine. Rax was currently shivering under the counter hearing the digi-mix of my voice through the speaker. He got over it pretty fast, Rax ain't the brooding intellectual type.

"So, any plans for our shares?"

I shook my head.

"Nah, no major upgrades we need."

Rax walked off to his room, probably going to play a screen game.

". . . what does Rax do with his shares, anyway?"

Sue shrugged.

". . . how about we send him off with some creds and see what he comes back with?"

". . . What, like seeing if he brings back a bunch of girls, or a cool looking rock or something?"

". . . yep."

"Give him a hundred and drop him off in the city for an hour."

So we sent him off in that near-empty city with a hundred creds in his pocket. And Sue and I were left alone to our own doings.

". . . Trey, you touch any of my figure again, you're dead."

. . .we were playing chess. . . her figure meant her little line of pawns. Thankfully I was too innocent to get innuendo. Now, I wasn't the big dumb idiot. I was more of the farm boy who's never seen a motel room before.

"Fine, I won't. . ."

Next game, I check-mate her without even touching one of her black pawns. Eh, did I mention Max taught me a bit about chess?

". . . can we do something else?"

I shrugged and packed up the chess set from my old duffel bag.

"Like what? Rax ain't gonna find his way back for a while."

". . . eh, I have some suggestions for the good of the team?"

"Shoot."

I spent the next hour modifying our zoid consoles. Sue had an idea that would make everything easier, a program that picked who would do the battles where only one person was needed. Basically, it was rock paper scissors except holographic and with cool sound effects. I also installed a few simple games to keep the other two buys. Cards, puzzles, move a ball between two paddles, a full-length action-based roleplayer with online and offline multi, and this little web game where you maneuvered a Liger onto the back of the Elephander. Hey, the web-geeks were making games about us. It's a good sign. I was starting out on the 'RP' something and making a character when Sue walked in and said Rax was back. He had invested his hundred into what looked like a collection of zoid models. About six hundred little zoid replicas. Dear god, that guy is messed up.

I got an email from Max. Geez, do we ever have a battle that guy doesn't see? Another review of how our plans worked, some comments on the zoids, questions about Psy, questions about the rumors about us.

No, Sue and I are not an item, no, Rax and Sue aren't an item. Can my zoid talk? Who cares! Is Sue dating my zoid? Actually, I never asked.

Author's Notes

Sorry for the delay, the next chap will be up by Friday. No, there are no pairrings going on. Thanks for the reviews. And if anyone is offended by my disgracing that ugly elephant, well, go talk to Rax. He'll actually give a care. Then again, he also cares about sparkly objects and cup holders.And as for the people wondering if Psy is an Ultimate X, an Ultimate X is just a fancy title for arrogant zoids.


	14. Chapter 14

After our little romp with Stroller and the photo-copyrighting business, we packed up and flew back East. I cut away to mid-flight.

". . . and. . .she wants it to be yellow. . ."

I had ordered a Command Wolf from out West, it'd be delivered after a week or so. Or plan, use scrap parts and a decent zoid to create a killing machine that could be operated by a college idiot like Riz.

". . . and this thing is called the Juggernaut or something. . ."

"Urban Assault. . ."

I was diagramming the blueprints on our coffee table. I had called to tell Riz the news, and she had some suggestions for the zoid. Like, a neon yellow and purple paint job. With a hunter green cockpit. And silver highlights. And her name spread out on the sides.

". . . so did you know she was color-blind?"

I sighed and sketched.

"You saw the Molga, it was gorgeous. Maybe Clara did it, or something."

"Yeah, that was a really nice kitchen set."

"Maybe she thinks a feminine, style-deaf zoid would strike fear into a genosaurer?"

Crap, I said the secret word. A half hour lecture on how Genos work.

"And the jets can rotate, all the way around!"

". . . kay. . ."

". . . what were we talking about?"

"Riz and her femni-zoid."

As we discussed possible alternatives Rax was unpacking yet another zoid model. This one was some freaky little voodoo dragon head with horns and guns.

"Sweet! A little voodoo dragon head with guns!"

Neither me nor Rax knew the names these things had.

"Demon's head. . ."

Sue did.

". . . how about we just tell Riz that it would eh. . . clash with our other zoids?"

The intercom buzzed.

"_**I'm kind of allergic to stupid freakin' ideas. . . just get her a pine tree freshener to shut her up."**_

And he buzzed out.

". . . is he like rigged in with the radio or is he pressing the button with his paw or something?"

Sue shrugged.

". . . I saw him pick up a stick with his tail and poke a dead thing out in the desert."

". . . dead thing?! Where the heck was I?!"

"You were sleeping in, we went out for a run without you."

So Psy was giving Sue rides?! No wonder people thought they were an item. Wait, where did they find out he could talk? Rax was too stupid, Sue is too silent, I'm pretty sure I don't have multiple personalities, who the heck tipped off the public?

". . . has he been going around without a pilot?"

"I said I wouldn't rat him out if he took back some late rentals."

". . . the video place has a drop-off box for giant robots?"

". . . hopefully. . ."

I tried to change the subject.

"Only a few more fights before we're considered for A-Class. That may double our income, even with a fourth. What if we try some investing?"

Sue didn't even stop to think.

"I'm going to promote a line of tasers, Rax is stashing his income into commercial real estate."

"I'm serious. . ."

"Okay, okay, I'm kind of thinking of plugging this new model of stun-gun."

What? Was I supposed to freak out over Rax not being able to chew gum and walk, yet he's renting out commercial real estate?

" 'Chase', how about we do a magazine article or something?"

Could be worth some subscriptions.

"That one news leader has been doing theories on what color hair you have."

". . . is wearing a baseball cap and sunglasses THAT unusual?"

". . . do you know what baseball is?"

". . . I hate you. . ."

As we were approaching the scorching heat and harsh gravity of our home city I checked my messages to read an alert about our next battle. Hm, Team Megadeath. How intimidating. War Shark, Command Wolf, and Rev Raptor. Maybe I'll just unclip the leash we clip Psy to and sit back and watch. No welcoming party at the Hanger. Except for some fat guy in a trench coat. When we walked off the ramp to stretch a bit he ran up to me, panting.

"Trey, right? The mechanic?"

Oh yeah, Riz and Clara's second uncle.

". . . yeah, the mechanic. . ."

"My Liger needs a new paint job, I want it done by six."

He shoved a key card into my hand.

"And tell your clients here their grease monkey has a job."

Grease Monkey?! This guy thought I was a hired mechanic to the Team?! Rax and Sue had already walked off, just me and fatso now.

"Um. . . Sir? I'm not their mechanic. . ."

He rolled his eyes and tapped his foot impatiently.

"Yeah yeah, it's mechanical service worker now, right?"

". . . I'm the Team Captain."

"Kid, shut up and go fix my zoid."

Have you ever heard of a dead sport called kickboxing?

"Sir. . ."

He seemed a tad ticked.

"Are you going to fix my zoid or should I tell your bosses their slave is a slacker?"

And now if you wish, imagine a classic right uppercut sweeping into the left side of an obese moron's jaw line, sending him off his feet and straight into the simu-crete.

Yeah, so I hit the guy. And he didn't get up. I just walked off to catch up with my Team, and when we came back from dinner he was gone. That means he's alive at least. A slacker? A grease Monkey? Hired help? I'm the captain of a top-notch team. Geez, it feels weird saying that. Captain. . top. . notch. . . yeah, still weird. A month ago I was getting harassed in that desert refugee town. No life, no future and now I was in a whole other world. Dear Zoid Eve. I had an amazing zoid, a great team, a home, food, friends. I would keep rambling on but I was a bit occupied staring in the mirror. This was the exact moment when my recent life hit me in the face like a golden brick being tossed at a homeless kid.

The next few days I spent out in Psy, mostly wandering. I got back to the Hanger at night but I was in a world of my own. Like I said, like a golden brick. The third day we were on top of a canyon, watching the sun rise like I usually did. As usual I was leaned back in the cockpit, watching the sun rise through the tinted glass.

"_**. . . hey, Chase, you gettin' some déjà vu here?"**_

I jolted a bit, he hadn't said anything in a while. He'd been staying quiet for some reason.

". . . whaddaya mean?"

"_**. . . this ain't the first time we were in this position."**_

. . . he meant the first time I took him out in the desert. The night I left the old, battered life behind.

". . . the sunset. . . wait, you remember that?!"

I thought his memory stopped at the lightning strike.

"_**I don't remember the decades of collecting dust. But you sitting back watching the sunset like it was your first time is something that isn't easy to forget."**_

". . . what's your point?"

"_**Why didn't you leave me to get burned like the rest of Max's stuff?"**_

Actually, I'd never thought about it.

". . . I spent my childhood wanting to pilot you just once. You were like a mute, metal relative or something."

"_**. . . hm. . ."**_

He seemed to be thinking, don't ask me how I could guess.

"_**You were a mess when you came to that junk-house after I got fried. I was watching you mourn over that Rev Raptor sunny-side up."**_

He was right, but what was he getting at?

"_**. . . did you know I was built back in the war, Trey?"**_

"Yeah, down South. You got sold to Max half-price and he more or less restored every piece of you."

"_**I spent a decade being shot at, exploded, and then left in the dust for two years until they dug me out. And then Max came around, treated me like a son, and even let me battle again."**_

". . . go on. . ."

"_**. . . I got to S Class because he saved me. I owed it to him."**_

I didn't say a word. I was more or less in light shock, once again.

"_**When I got fried, you might say I met my maker. You ever hear the old legends about the original Zoids?"**_

". . . Zoid Eve. . .?!"

"_**. . . she says hi."**_

. . . Zoid Eve. . .the creator of Zoids, the original goddess of the planet before we crashed here from a then ruined Earth. Last I checked she'd been non-existent for a few millennia.

"**_. . . you might say I was a charity case for her. Me and Max retired after a battle that literally tore my limbs off."_**

What?

"_**You ever read up on something called a Psycho Genosaurer?"**_

". . . and how it got vaporized. . ."

"**_We thought this one in the new ZBC was just a copycat, a salute to the legend. I'll tell you right now, that freak was the real thing. The pilot was some guy who I'm guessing found it in a dig somewhere. He was a bit of a psycho too, to be honest."_**

". . . and those two tore you and Max up. . ."

"_**I was beyond repair. . . took weeks to get me back in one in one piece, And years of natural healing to run again."**_

". . . and all that back in the big war. . ."

"**_Like I said, Eve more or less spoke to me in person. Made a few deals, used a few loopholes."_**

". . . what's heaven for zoids like, anyway?"

"_**. . . I remember a really nice waiting room, and her office."**_

". . .so the magazines were semi-recent?"

"_**Brand new. . . this is heaven we're talking about."**_

He more or less explained that somehow, in a weird personification of spirit he talked to Zoid Eve in an office environment. As in an actual office, computers, shelves, pictures of the family. So is his soul a person or what? I didn't have the male parts to ask.

"_**. . . she had this file with your name on the cover."**_

". . . you can't be serious. . ."

I didn't like where this was going. . .

"_**Apparently your street-name in the other life is 'Chase'. Your soon to be given nickname?"**_

". . . according to the media, yeah."

By now the sunrise was over, I was hunched over the panel speaker talking to this eh. . . giant. . . cat. . . person. . . voice.

"_**Have you ever noticed you've had a bit of good luck finding a team, finding parts, even getting a sponsor?"**_

"You're not saying. . ."

"_**Your number one fan happens to be the Goddess of Zi."**_


	15. Chapter 15

"Now, when you say number one fan. . ."

"_**Chase, she figured the ZBC had forgotten where they came from."**_

". . . a bunch of war vets who couldn't stop blowing things up?"

"_**No, I meant the battles."**_

". . . then why me? Why not have Max make a comeback?"

"_**. . . he's retired. . . Eve owes him a bit."**_

"Are we talking about a Goddess here or the Neo-Mafia?"

"**_I honestly think they're connected."_**

I'll spare you twenty minutes of dumb questions.

". . . well, what about you?"

"_**What about?"**_

"Why didn't she just fix you instead of turning you into. . .?"

"_**. . . personal request. . ."**_

". . . um, I can imagine wanting some firepower but the design. . ."

"_**. . . seems a bit unusual?"**_

"Why the blades AND the speed boost?"

"_**Figured they went nice together. The paint job was Eve's idea, though."**_

Hm, all jet black with dark mauve thrown in, sky blue eyes, and detailed fangs, real elegant.

"That seems a bit odd. . ."

"_**Well, it's better than some of her other creations. . ."**_

"Yeah. Honestly, Ligers look really bad with that natural shade of blue."

"**_And the Shield liger is like the younger sibling nobody cares about."_**

"And what was the deal with the Bloody DeathSaurer?"

"_**. . . well, the last guy who made a joke about 'time of the month' got struck by lighting. In a bad way."**_

". . . eep."

"_**But back on track, Eve has sent me a few messages since the change. The other Reckless zoids are nice, but they need a little oomph."**_

"Sue's snipe is a freakin' pocket knife. . ."

"_**I mean image, kid."**_

". . . dear god, do we have to leave them out in a storm like the last time?"

"_**There are other ways to induce evolution. . ."**_

". . . are those two even alive?"

"_**They will be. . ."**_

"What causes a zoid to change, anyway?"

"_**A little thing called psychology. . ."**_

Two hours later.

". . . and like I said, there's no rent."

Sue and Rax stared at me from the couch.

"So. . . have the Whale float out on the Bay like a houseboat. . ."

Rax liked fishing, Sue could care less.

"No rent. . ."

". . . sure, could work."

These guys would move to outer space if it weren't all commercial retail.

"How about after the battle tomorrow we check out good anchor points?"

They agreed. Stage one complete. Well, actually it wasn't part of the plan. I just hated the fans in the Hanger swarming whenever we went out for lunch.

The Next Day

Well, here's our little friend in the bar again. His wife just came home with her hair dyed blonde. Two hours later he's out in the bar giving his friends details like a kid after his first date. Right as he's getting to the part with the ceiling fan, everyone is glued to the screen where a battle is starting. Poor little guy.

But hey, it's a battle. Walking up is Megadeath, the Raptor, Wolf, and a little fin marking the War Shark's position. It's a canyon battle, a club favorite. The gray Whale floats by, shooting off the three challengers. There's the Snipe, the tattooed Liger, and of course the Saix. They land in a triangle formation. The Jude lands, calls out the stats, and it starts. Usually Reckless only sends out one zoid, that's all they need. Not this time. Literally a millisecond later the Liger is tearing the Raptor in half, the Wolf is a pile of parts and the Saix is braking before it hits the sound barrier, and the Shark flops down after being shot down in mid-air.

A thirty second battle. The Judge shakes its visor-head and calls it, the bar is staring lifelessly at the screen. One guy starts to slowly clap, then stops after no one joins in. Our little executive looks at the bar tender, who nods.

"Those guys aren't playing around anymore. . ."

The zoids jump back into the Whale, but hang back, watching the battlefield from the open ramp. They stay like that for a few minutes before flying off. This C class thing isn't hilarious anymore, not it's entertaining.

Actually, it was twenty nine seconds according to the Judge. Yeah, we actually tried this time. But we had reasons. That team kind of sent us a letter before the battle. Never seen so many misspelled insults. I as usual was looking over the zoids after the bout, tightening the rare loose part and painting the chipped sections.

But we had a new project, a gray Command Wolf sitting in the Hanger. It was just delivered. Next to it were the parts I salvaged from that old base, all lined up. It was going to be a long night.

I spent a day taking the armor and add-ons off the Wolf, stripping it completely. The next day I rewired the entire system and added a few of the old parts to the back supports.

Day three, I dismantle the legs and rebuild them.

Four, I add the 'main attraction' to the back.

Five, start putting the armor back on.

Six, rebuild cockpit.

Last day. We have a new toy in from the company that made our Whale. A Surface Modification Center. Basically a cage that completely paints and details a zoid automatically, no more spray-paint guns and splotched. I dial in the specs for what it has to look like, and leave it to be painted while I catch twenty hours of sleep.

I was woken up by Rax, Sue was too busy staring at it. I walked in and took yet another look at it. The first thing you noticed was the paint job. At first look it was dark gray, but if you looked up-close it was a digital camouflage pattern that would blend in with most major landscapes. Then you looked up. Guns. Huge, numerous guns covering the back. At least eight chain-style cannons mounted onto the back instead of a little rifle. The elgs were next, they went from skinny and light to mock-muscular and covered with molded armor plates similar to the saix, making them impossible to snap off. Then the head, teeth, lots of teeth. And an odd cage built into the cockpit glass, like an old fighter plane. It was hopefully shatter-proof, and looked scary as hell.

"Introducing, the Command Wolf Urban Assault. . .also known as the Juggernaut. . ."

Sue was laughing to herself.

"That thing should be illegal. . ."

"It is, it is. . ."

Rax was staring at the camouflage.

"It even blends in with the metal floor. . ."

"It's an illusion created by the human eye. "

"The guns are. . ."

". . . essential. . ."

Sue finally made a negative comment.

"This thing has to be slower than a cow. . ."

"Actually, it's nearly as fast as a Konig Wolf."

Insert the two staring at me like I was on fire.

"So. . . it's a speed demon with guns and armor. . ."

". . . and it has an artificial intelligence module to help out the pilot. . . Riz will be able to learn normally while this thing covers for her."

"Is it alive?"

"No, just a computer program."

I explained the gun system, ammo-less lasers. Then every other feature built into it.

"It saved the Republic back in the War, should save Riz from a beating."

As we talked a rocking was felt gently. We were now floating on the Bay, no more Hanger roof rent. We could have just went under the surface and lived underwater but this seemed less cliché. I heard some storm clouds rumble outside, I hadn't gone outside since I started working on this thing. Sue brought in the occasional meal so I was still alive.

We went out into the city for shopping, and to get me out in the real world for a change. We even stopped by Riz's place to show her a picture of her new zoid. After reviving her at the emergency room she loved it. Even the paint-job, strangely. She gave me a list of casual features to add when I healed from the last week, programs, luxuries, nothing major. We had arranged that we'd pick her up when she battled with us, she hated flying so we don't have to clean out a spare room. Good thing, too. That room lined with zoid models is half the décor.

When we got back to the whale and floated out to the center of the Bay again, everything went fine until Rax went into the Hanger. He pulled me in there and pointed, the poor guy was in shock. His Blade Liger with all its graffiti, was covered in a huge blue crystal.

". . . okay. . . three, two, one. . ."

In harmony we both freaked out and called Max, confirming that yes, the Blade Liger was evolving. The bad side, it wouldn't come out of there for three days. And Rax left his super ball in the cockpit. Sue kind of retreated to her room, later we heard glass clinking and drunken folk songs about Geno Saurers. Some day, Sue. Some day.

Author's Notes

Thanks again for the reviews! No, Trey/Chase isn't related to Van. As for the Liger evolving, this is actually common in this zoid world. Some people only buy Shield Ligers because it's cheap, and eventually it turns into a Blade Liger. Any suggestions, ideas, anything, go ahead. As for the Command Wolf Juggernaut, it is a real zoid. Just an under-rated one. And what is Rax's Blade turning into? Come on, this is an easy one.


	16. Chapter 16

DISCLAIMER:I don't own zoids, or any copyrighted zoids characters. I own Trey, Max, Riz, Rax, Clara, Sue, Max's Nephew, that executive, guy in trenchcoat. . . christ, I own everybody in this story who doesn't appear in the show, okay? Even little executive with the new shoes and the blonde wife. I also own the Psycho Saix AKA Psy. You touch my chars, I cut you.

". . . that's how you got the Blade to evolve. . ."

"_**More or less. . ."**_

I was watching a movie in the living room, buzzing Psy from the intercom.

"You just happened to mention how great it is to evolve. . ."

"_**It's Rax's zoid, how intellectual could it be?"**_

"What do Blades usually turn into, anyway?"

The screen connected to the intercom popped up two images.

"**_The ZBC did a few experiments; they came up with two options."_**

One image expanded, revealing an orange cat zoid that was ugly as hell. Huge, bulky legs strapped on and a football helmet head with no visible face or jaw. Must weigh more than the Whale. But it did have a huge booster and sniping rifle on the back.

"_**Snipe Liger, amazing long-distance zoid. But no teeth, claws, or close combat skills. Ain't too fast either."**_

"The head is like a shock absorber. . ."

"_**Exactly, it's like it has orthodontia."**_

Next up is a purple/sky blue cat with two huge wing things sticking out of its back. Kind of a weird head, one eyepiece and tusks on either sides of its mouth. The 'wings' were actually the biggest blades I've ever seen. And its tail had to be twice as long as usual, with an extra blade on it. Nice amount of armor, not a speed demon but looked pretty fast.

"**_Slash liger, all close combat. Those legs are impossible to break off, same with the blades. Boosters built into every blade, easily half a hundred over a Blade at top speed. Only one gun though, short range. This thing has armor thicker than a Geno. Best Blade zoid around, in my opinion. Has at least twenty tucked away, all high-energized."_**

"Mother of Eve. . ."

"_**And a elephander-wannabe ultra shield."**_

"So the Snipe is a failure, this thing is the best close combat cat around."

"**_On paper it is. They're rare though, Ligers never want to change. This thing was made for Rax, believe me."_**

"What, did Eve have a slow day at work?"

"_**Never asked. Let's just pray this thing is a Slash. As for Sue, that zoid ain't goin' anywhere."**_

"What?"

"_**That thing won't evolve that easy. Too much technology. I can have Eve breath a little life into it, but that'll just let me reason with it."**_

"What does Eve have in mind for Sue?"

"_**. . . eh. . . something unusual, preferably. She didn't have any brainstorms."**_

"Great, I'm working without a net."

"**_You can't get rid of that Snipe, it has the core of her old Geno."_**

". . . what?!"

"_**When Sue got her ass kicked, her zoid shifted bodies. That may be why it won't change, it's Geno or bust."**_

"Great, great. . ."

"_**Dude, just buy one already!"**_

I sighed, lying on the couch in the direction of the intercom.

"Those commercial ones are worthless. . . can't Eve point me out to some Ruins or something?"

He didn't have time to answer, Rax walked in asking me to check on the zoid cocoon. Psy has been behaving, no freaking out Rax. We walked into the Hanger to see the Crystal Liger, on a special scanning platform we moved it to for the time being.

"It's like changing color. . ."

Rax was right, it had gotten darker to the point you couldn't see the Liger inside. On both sides you could see the extended blades, I had fixed Rax's zoid so the blades were always out and reinforced. With the crystal layer it looked like an angel cat or something.

"That is a bit weird. . ."

I ordered a full scan at a console, and a minute later got a diagram.

"Rax, looks like your zoid is fine. The legs are a bit weird though, looks like they're reshaping."

He nodded and walked off, he wasn't rude, just a moron. It'd been a day since the cocoon appeared, he'd been quiet the whole time.

"_**Now that the pigeon's gone. . ."**_

I turned to see Psy lying down on his platform, looking at me like a bored cat.

"_**Legs are going funny, eh?"**_

"You saw the readout, they're getting thicker."

"_**That's not a clue, both the evolutions have thick legs."**_

We shared a shrug and chatted about the zoid more, just more theories and ideas. As we talked about the paint job Sue's Sniper shifted a bit, perfectly normal for any zoid.

"_**. . . eh. . . she's getting ticked. . ."**_

I stepped closer to Psy, away from the motionless Sniper.

". . . she?"

"_**You heard me. . ."**_

"Eh, I'm gonna go catch a late movie with the guys. . . you want me to download a movie for ya?"

"_**Yeah, thanks."**_

I took out my little ZBC PDA and sent a movie file to Psy, I heard one of the cockpit screens start playing chase scene music.

"Have fun."

"_**Back at ya."**_

We got to a crowded theater early, no annoying fans. We got food, good seats since we got in a half hour early and just talked about nothing.

"So, any luck with Riz?"

I'd been wondering if anything new popped up. Sue answered.

". . . she wants separate billing."

"What?"

Rax shrugged.

"It'll be Team Reckless, featuring Riz. What's her last name anyway?"

"The girl never wears a full shirt, how the heck would I know?"

Sue rolled her eyes, knowing I was bluffing. I had never been a card for the opposite gender. Way too polite.

"That Clara was way better."

Rax and I stared. Sue had just made a true statement usually stated by hormonal males. Rax's mouth was full of nachos, so I had to respond.

"O-kaaay. . ."

(Author's Note: Sue is based exactly on a close friend of mine, I'm not some perv who makes bi characters just to get ratings. ATTN all male fans, no pairings! This is staying pg-13)

Before Sue could retort a group of eleven noisy kids walked into the row in front of us. The three of us shared a small nod.

"So, to the ceiling fan?"

Rax nodded, playing along. Sue piped in.

"Man, you're lucky. Weirdest I got was. . ."

Where. . . did Sue get these filthy, trash stories? Because I have got to learn a few of my own. In two seconds the group of overweight, obnoxious kids had scooted away. Sue smirked.

"That story gets home every time. . ."

Both me and Rax were pale and afraid to say anything, but yeah, it worked. The movie was average, kind of catchy. Nothing worth seeing twice.

We got back just in time to watch the news and the zoids gossip talk show. Today the topic was the Blitz Team, as usual.

". . . hm. . . so that mercenary guy won't do any commercials. . ."

Sue always paid attention to the mercs, since she was one previously. I hadn't told them about that little round in the desert where I met those guys. We even got mentioned by the talk host.

'And now a piece on that soon to be hit, Team Reckless. Only one battle remains until they have a shot at the A Class.'

They only talk about us because we're deadly. I mean, we're like a five year old who's going to grow up and rule the world and everybody knows it. And the host has a terrible British accent.

'After their last thirty second fiasco, many media companies are doing background checks on the now infamous members.'

Infamous? Since when are we evil?

'Their Captain, Trey Brand, has connections with the legendary Max Brand. There is a rumor going around that he is not of blood relation.'

"Pfft. . . how scandalous. . ."

So I wasn't Max's real son, how terrible.

'The sideshow pilot, Monitori Rax, has once again demonstrated pure luck with his unusual strategies.'

Both me and Sue tore our eyes off the screen and at Rax."

"Moni. . ."

". . . tori?"

He seemed as amazed as we did.

". . . dang. . . that's my name?!"

We honestly don't know if it was a typo, or if Rax actually forgot his first name.

The sleezy chat show ended and dropped into the usual evening news. No major headlines. But few graphs popped up showing trends in zoid custom paint jobs. Needless to say we went to bed early, why stay up to do nothing? Before I got onto my futon though I got another message from Max.

'Good news, the nephew is possibly backing off from starting a team. His folks already bought four Genosaurers, though.'

Dear god. A bunch of preteen punks with killer zoids. And they want to start a team. He mentioned they already painted each one a different color. And had custom-made flight suits with helmets.Their future team name?

'Team Geno Rangers. . .'

Oh. . . my. . god. . . I laughed straight through the night till sunrise.


	17. Chapter 17

I was sleeping peacefully on my little couch, all spread out and comfy, when the intercom buzzed.

"_**Chase! The head's exposed on the Liger!"**_

"Gr. . . how many centimeters is it dilated?"

"_**. . . . very funny. Seriously, the head is sticking out of the cocoon, I think you might want to hop in and do a scan."**_

So I pulled on a shirt, and lumbered barefoot toward the hanger. I flicked on the main lights so see Psy pacing, and the blue crystal Liger, with a perfectly normal head sticking out of the crystal neck.

"Holy. . ."

It was a dark colored liger head, one eyepiece with three sections. On each side of the mouth were two curved super-fangs, tusks, whatever. The teeth were just over the top. Yep. A Slash Liger, Rax was going to wet himself when he found out.

"_**. . . now, we just wait for the rest of the cocoon to flake off. . ."**_

There was a pile of blue dust under the head, the cocoon must dissolve bit by bit. I activated a scan on a console, then ran up while it booted up. I grabbed a leg, shimmied up like a circus acrobat and flipped into the cockpit.

"_**Careful Robin, there may be booby traps. . ."**_

When did he watch that show. . .

"Up yours, Adam West."

I banged a bit on the three-piece glass until it opened, and I dropped onto a rather cold leather seat. Very nice cockpit, just like the other two. Cold as hell though, I closed the cockpit so it may be a bit warmer. This crystal stuff must be draining heat for energy. I looked around at the dead holo-screens.

"Nothin'. . ."

It must not have power yet. Not even a charging light. But hey, nice digs.

The seat itself was a bit over-sized, like an overstuffed reading chair. Softer than usual, not a pilot chair like in Psy. You felt like you were playing a video game in this thing, not flying a plane. It had the same super-consoles as the Snipe and my Saix, but they seemed a bit more casual.

"Psy, this thing is like a freakin' arcade game!"

"_**No kidding. . . Rax will be at home, eh?"**_

The cockpit was currently tinted, and in the dark Hanger I could barely make out Psy and the Snipe. Maybe it will have variable coloring, when the power comes on anyway.

"Batteries not included."

"_**Dang. . . hook up a bio?"**_

". . . the crystals may overload it. . ."

"_**. . . I'll get the cable. . ."**_

Hey, I always loved shocking zoids to life. I hopped out while Psy dragged over the cable in his mouth. We managed to hook up the bolts to the weird tusks, the neck was still crystallized. Ten minutes of wiring later we were sitting near the console, the countdown ticking away.

"How does this feel to a zoid, anyway?"

Psy shrugged, probably remembering the time I removed his rust.

"_**Like a cold shower. . ."**_

Right on cue the Liger was swept up in purple light. Then a shocking blue light, I covered my eyes. By using my hand then jumping into Psy, where he turned on the sun-block screen. The blast lasted even after we turned the power off!

"Those crystals are going to blow?!"

"_**. . . run?"**_

Right as he got into a pounce stance, it stopped. Just blinked out, like nothing happened. No explosion, no shattering. Still covered in crystal.

". . . check the console. . ."

"_**. . . normal. It's in a charging state. You think we just pulled a Frankenstein, or did we just fry some brain cells?"**_

". . . stay on Eve's good side. . ."

I went back to bed an hour of scans later, not bothering to wake up Sue or Rax.

Sue shook me awake at a decent hour.

"Yo. . . it's a Slash. Several dozen tons, three ounces."

"I know. . .I delivered it."

She laughed and let me go back to sleep. Later on I saw it full-size. It was gorgeous. The head I described last night, plus two odd ears and three head-spikes. And those wings? They were folded on its back, ready to flip out and make sushi. Yeah, they were blades, I just always called them wings. And the legs, god, broad armored shoulders, boosters up to the wazoo tucked under every blade and limb! It had one large energy cannon tucked under the lion-like chin, short range but wide powered. The tail was a bit long, but it had a large blade hanging on the tip.

Now, the paint job. Rax was worried it would lose the graffiti, it didn't. An amazing, gorgeous zoid, covered in every color of street art. But not just signatures and pictures, art. Huge, colored murals of gang names and street names, sayings and mottos. Before they were done in regular spray paint. Now it looked like a street-punk became Da Vinci himself. I actually let a tear slip seeing it. This, was something we could use. A symbol. Hope for the under-privileged. Truthfully, wasn't that what this team was all about?

Rax, was speechless. We all knew it was his soul mate. I mean, he spent six hours just sitting in his little gaming chair, stroking the controls. He never even asked to try it out. I'd spent pages describing how he loved that zoid, but can't you just picture a little grease monkey sitting in the zoid of his dreams, with that tiny, amazing smile? Can't you? I'm going to go watch football in strip clubs until I can be a man again.

When Rax went off to his room to do whatever it is he does I hopped into the cockpit and wired the zoid into our system. Then I spent a few hours sitting in Psy, looking over the insides and out of our new weapon. Psy also shut up and read the stats and graphs.

"So, what's this thing's personality like?"

"_**. . . eh. . . promise you won't laugh?"**_

". . . shoot."

"_**. . . it. . . eh. . acts like Rax?"**_

". . . we fried its brain last night, didn't we?"

"_**I dunno. . . it seems kinda kickass, actually. A zoid and a pilot being so alike."**_

Right then a voice yelled form the Hanger floor.

"Don't they have mirrors where you two come from? Out in the desert?"

And it was Sue, making fun of the fact me and Psy WERE kind of similar. I mean personality, and the fact he is the zoid I used to dream about as a kid. Maybe Rax and his Slash would have a similar relationship.

"_**Sue, your Snipe yelled the same thing earlier."**_

That shut her up. Three morons and three high-powered moron zoids. How poetic. I got another email from Max. You know, I haven't seen him since I left the desert. He left before I did, so no good byes. Apparently he was planning to fix up the Saix so we could get into the ZBC. Would Psy have been caught in that storm if Max didn't have to leave me out on my own? Who cares. But back to the email.

His nephew talked his folks back into starting a team. The kid stopped listening to Max a while ago. I remembered seeing the kid in his Geno those two times, to think that was going to be a battle pilot. Hope they have insurance. Sue dragged me away from Psy and the Slash to dinner out in the city. Rax was who knows where, probably in the Slash still. Sue didn't actually take me to dinner, she took me to a bar with pool tables and buffet. We'd moved up to higher-class biker hang outs. We played billiards while shooting the breeze in our usual way.

"One more battle. . ."

Sue banked the eight ball into a pocket, leaving my lone solid ball on the table. I started to rack the balls for the next game.

"And we're already famous before we hit A Class."

"Must be luck."

I hadn't exactly told my team about Eve, Psy, and this whole our being used by the gods to start a revolution thing. It never came up.

"Hey, Chase, are we like involved with Zoid Eve?"

What?! What could've. . .

". . . damn it, Psy!"

That cat , was going to get sold to a violin maker.

Author's Notes

Another chapter done. But hey, I'm going to start fixing the grammar in the earlier chaps so when new people read it they aren't scared off. Reviews, advice, suggestions? And I have to thank you guys for not begging to have cameos, that was one reason I hesitated coming to this site.


	18. Chapter 18

". . . so the Snipe won't evolve. . ."

Sue and I were sitting in that same pool hall, she had just learned everything I was willing to tell.

"It takes after the owner, apparently. . ."

She glared, but it was true, Geno or bust.

". . . so how did Psy trick the Liger into going through puberty?"

". . . psychology. You notice that for some reason, Psy kept talking about evolution?"

She nodded to herself.

"And the Liger got jealous. . ."

Bingo, I nodded. I left the money we owed for the check on the table and we walked back to the Pier, where the Whale was floating. In the living room we talked a bit more about this whole Eve scenario. Then she invited me into her room for something I didn't expect.

. . . she was trying to set me up with her friend.

"She is REALLY nice, I'm telling you!"

". . . then why aren't you going out with her?"

As you can see, I was a bit reluctant.

". . . I don't like blondes, but seriously, one date."

"I _really_ don't think. . ."

". . . or else we won't let you battle tomorrow, Psy can handle himself. . ."

"You. . . sick. . . bit. . ch"

I said this while holding a dramatic pose with my finger shakily pointed at her nose. She shrugged.

". . . thanks."

Yep, I was going on a date.

Now, once again, our little friend in the bar. He had to work late, sorry. How about some one just as good, some guy in a hat. He walks in, turns on a blank screen and watched the battle in private, easier to pay attention. The Judge touches down, yadda yadda yadda, and the teams walk up. There's the usual close camera of the Saix, then all of a sudden every, single camera is on Rax. That. . . zoid. . . about every person in the bar is looking. Is that even a Liger?! The blades. . . god, the blades. . . soon everyone knows what it is, then they look at the Mona Lisa-level street art. Is that the Blade he's had since he joined the team? Dear god, another reason to buy a Shield Liger cheap.

But back to the battle, the other team is three Saixes. I'm serious. No, I'm serious. They call themselves Team Thunder, a Lightning Team wannabe. There's a few groans at the sight of the Reckless Snipe, why haven't they gotten another mutant to complete the set? The Judge buzzes the battle on, and Team Thunder takes off in different directions. Then falls flat on their heads as their guns are shot off by the 'plain' Snipe Master. Then the 'not so plain' Saix flashes by each of them so fast the cameras can't catch it. Then the new Liger pounces each one in one sprint, landing in a cloud of dust as if to be dramatic. Um. . . it didn't do anything! He's just standing there posing! Wait. . . their heads fell off. The Judge actually starts laughing. . .then buzzes the battle to Reckless. But something is new. A window pops up on every screen showing the battle.

'Team Reckless has completed the Minimal Trial in Class C Section of the Zoid Battle Commission. Please vote now for action to be taken.'

Two web addresses popped up. One will vote yes, the other no. Soon a graph popped up and in eight seconds the left side of the screen stacked to the top, the blue bar next to it staying at zero. Our little friend in the hat also voted for Reckless to go to A Class. We were officially in the leather.

But about the guy in the hat. . . um. . . it was _kind_ of yours truly. You see, that thing about dating Sue's friend. . . I saw a picture of her. That was Psy himself out tearing up those little Saixes, I had been in the ol' tavern watching. Funny thing, as I voted to go to A Class some guy tapped me on the shoulder.

"Ain't you. . ."

I looked at him from under my hat brim.

". . . more or less."

He just nodded to himself slowly, probably confused to the point he can't remember whether he married that one woman or if they're just friends. I paid for the screen use and walked out to the Pier, I had an hour before they'd get back from the Desert. Note to self, I hate missing battles.

I took my time walking the nine blocks. I had on my 'casual' outfit. Semi-nice jacket, plain shirt and jeans, and the old hat with new sunglasses on the brim. The fashion trend this side of town, the exact same outfit I had on. Only in all-black or bright colors. What was it called again. . . the Reckless Movement? It's weird they misspell it with an R just like we do. Hey, I was still just a tad idiotic.

I saw a few preteen girls wearing sunglasses. It was cloudy, overcast, and getting ready to rain. Just what this planet needs, Sue the Role Model. How the heck did a C Class team get this kind of coverage? Was it because this was our supposed home town? None of us exactly loved Vigilian. I mean, it was warm, cheap economy, and had a nice waterfront but the housing was a bit pricey and everybody had bad taste in celebrities. People kept complaining how the Sectors got won by some lousy bastard from that dump out in the desert.

Ah, the desert dump. My home country. Yeah, I just found out it's a separate country. Barely as big as a city, but it's registered as a country for fugitives to go in and never come back. Like my biological parents, those two freaks who liked to bash me up every day. I still have no clue why Max built a house out there, was it quiet? He didn't have any rap sheet, not even a bad rep in the bars. Oh yeah. . . that whole Zoid Eve using us as finger puppets thing.

I really should visit Max. I haven't seen him in nearly six months. The last time we talked was when he told me to take the Saix and run. I'm pretty sure Psy can't write emails, so he hasn't seen his Saix either. They probably have a few things to discuss. Didn't Max mention an Ultimate X he had his eye on? HA! Wait. . . he actually said that didn't he. . . meh, I'll ask Psy to ask the Gal Upstairs. While I was scrambling around in the attic of my head I had walked all the way to the pier and was had ten minutes before the Whale would land. Geez, is this what not being a zoid pilot is like?

Maybe I should give in and go on a date with Sue's cross-eyed, albino friend with the overbite. With the little schizophrenia quirk. Sue had assured me she was very nice, after three forced pills and a round of drinks. If Zoid Eve thought I was so important, why can't she have it rain super models on my head? I don't need much, just a light drizzle of stereotypical shallow women to drop down from the sky without the whole physics thing breaking their legs from the drop. For the last freakin' time, I'm not drunk.

The giant fish-mammal robot landed on time, I jumped into the mouth ramp and got lost for twenty minutes trying to find the section of rooms we lived in. And this thing was half-size, imagine a full-size Whale King. I walked into the Pad to see Rax and Sue staring at a screen.

". . . anything good on?"

They just pointed, I took a seat next to them. They were watching ten guys in robes talk at a round table.

". . . is this that movie where the blonde. . ."

". . . they're discussing our Class Promotion. . ."

. . . wince when can Rax pronounce-HOLY!

". . . oh. . ."

I pushed them both slightly to the side. So, the voting thing was just a statistic? I heard about a council, just never thought into it.

'Well, they would draw in marketing audiences but they can't turn into a sideshow'

'Technically, one of them used to be a sideshow pilot'

. . . These guys looked really similar. Same hair style and robe. Was this a public channel or did Sue hack into it?

'. . . they have filed to sign on a fourth, a new pilot from a Sectors family.'

That's Riz. . .

'Well, if they get promoted what Class would they blend in with?'

Wait. . . we could skip a Class to S Class?!

'. . . give them a while to get their image redone, and we'll see.'

Translation? Heeeeere's . . . Sue

". . . we're in. . . and if we take it up a notch we'll get into S. . ."

The next thing I knew I woke up in our living room with a hangover. Sue was next to me, and Rax was dozing on the table. What the. . . I shoved sue off and looked out the window, it was morning?! I check the date on a screen and saw some headlines off to the side.

'RECKLESS MAKE IT, PILOTS SEEN LIVING IT UP'

Ohhhhh. . . we were drunk. . . that explains a lot. . . I read my messages until Sue woke up.

". . . did we kill anyone?"

I shook my head while tapping the screen.

"Don't think so, may have trashed some public property. . ."

She seemed relieved.

"Whew. . ."

Ten minutes later six girls walked out of Rax's room and out the door. Don't, ask. . .

The zoids seemed fine, Psy eagerly told me the details on the battle I missed. Then he asked what the heck happened last night, we kept buzzing the intercom and asking him to do a beer run.

"_**I mean, you're asking a freakin' zoid to buy beer. . ."**_

". . . did ya get us any?"

"_**Yeah, three cases."**_

"Good Kitty."

Max sent me three emails. We got a week before we even get the paperwork for A Class. I'm thinking take a quick trip down South. 'Bout time Max got a look at Team Reckless.

Author's Notes

Eh. . . they won't do this all the time. They work hard enough, they should be able to play hard. Give it a while before Eve does anything about the Snipe. And Trey was just a tad out of it this chapter, don't judge him. We all try alcohol for the first time eventually.


	19. Chapter 19

DISCLAIMER: I don't own zoids, but I do own the original zoid designs/concepts in this chapter and story.

So how was A Class? Rax is off with his harem, sue off with her friends at the movies, and me trying to once again upgrade something. Today I was sitting in Psy's cockpit making blueprints of a cockpit suspension system for the zoids. Why do we need a shock absorber system? Beats me, I'm bored.

"_**What if you routed the neck support through the cable webs?"**_

"I'd need to rework the material pattern. . ."

I was staring at the biggest screen Psy had, currently featuring a cut-away 3D model of Sue's Snipe. Right now the focus was on the bird neck.

"_**Didn't the neck jerk a bit in that third simulation?"**_

"I thought that was the kickback."

"_**Nah, it was like whiplash."**_

Hm, it did jerk around a bit.

"_**Hey, you've got mail."**_

A text window popped up over the metal raptor model. Let's see. . . okay, this is worth writing.

'Trey

Max here. Nephew about to do stupidest thing on planet. Watch out for 'Neil Walker'.'

"_**. . . eh, some guy in a black hat Max ran out of town?"**_

"Not sure who that is actually. . ."

"_**. . . you got another one."**_

Another message, this one professionally published.

'Dear Mr. Brand,

We have chosen at random a pilot worthy of dueling us via Zoids. This is not a ZBC invitation, but a formal duel. Meet at attached coordinates, come alone tomorrow at sun-peak.

Sir Neil Walker of the Geno Rangers'

". . . okaaaay. . . Max's nephew just challenged me under a fake name. . ."

"_**And he could only come up with Neil Walker?"**_

"The kid's name is Raphael. . ."

"_**Oh. . . how eh. . ."**_

I didn't let Psy finish, I hopped out of his head and onto the Hanger floor. I had on my usual shirt, ragged pants with the tool belt, and my little black watch/zoid control that I never use. I stamped my sleeping foot and jogged into the living quarters. Well, I had to run through six empty hallways first. All with empty rooms on both sides. Honestly, the emptiness is a bit creepy. Like a closed hotel or something. Then I turned a corner into the well-lit, furnished and lived-in house inside the belly of the Whale.

I typed in an address on one of the media screens and watched Sue's head pop up in the viewing window.

"Chase, what's up?"

I folded my arms and looked at her.

"Eh. . . remember how we thought it'd be funny if Raphael challenged us to a duel?"

"Max's whiny little nephew, with the Geno?"

"Yeah."

". . . just let Psy loose on 'em."

I raised a faint eyebrow at her usual frown.

"Isn't that a bit harsh for newbies?"

"Hey, they have Genosaurers. They deserve to die."

Dear Eve, Sue is still on that Geno thing?! We exchanged a few more pointless remarks and I closed the window. Well, this was our plan. We show up, and just let the Saix loose on all four of them. The kids need to learn a lesson, stay out of the ZBC. We have a week off before the ZBC processes our Class change, this'll kill time. I jogged back into the Hanger and straight to the main console.

"Psy, how do you feel about a four on one?"

"_**Sounds like a good day's work. . ."**_

I typed in some program orders.

"But there's a catch. . ."

"_**Eh?"**_

"You know Max doesn't want them in the ZBC. And they'll probably back out if their zoids get totaled."

"_**Gotcha."**_

". . . but keep them intact."

The cat leaned down to watch me type over my shoulder.

"_**What are you getting-Whoa. . ."**_

I expanded the blueprint window so he could see.

"Yep. Now, if we were to make a few. . . eh, customizations. . ."

I changed a few factors on the 3D model.

"_**Um. . . you're going to use regular plate armor over a field system?"**_

"Yeah."

"_**Why not ditch the outer armor and just use the fields?"**_

". . . then the thing would look. . ."

I suddenly tapped a few buttons.

"Son of a. . . Psy, great minds think alike. . ."

I watched the Saix nod, he could really mimic emotion well. Well, show emotion, he was alive after all.

"_**And I'm sure the ice queen will approve. . ."**_

The Next Day, Sun Peak

Since I'm going to be actually watching this battle from the Whale, our little bar veteran can go play golf for an afternoon. The coordinates 'Neil' sent us were quite a bit South, we had to fly three fours. The battlefield, surprisingly, seemed to be a large concrete plain. Maybe the foundation for a demolished base. But no caravan or zoids present, we must be early. I was in the Whale cockpit, where I'd get the best view. We hovered over the plain, waiting.

I leaned back in the captain's seat and watched a communication signal pop up. I of course accepted and watched what looked like a floating helmet pop up in hologram form.

"I see you have accepted. . ."

The kid must have a voice changer working. . . geez, that helmet was ugly. Bright red, shiny, no face visible, and made to look like a dinosaur.

(Schira Says: I grew up making fun of power rangers. . . Sue me. and I don't own them, eaither. Dang Disclaimers.)

"Yeah, I'm here. So this is one on one I'm guessing?"

". . . possibly. . ."

It was a bit obvious it was the whole team. . . these kids need to learn to act.

"Well, either way I'm going down alone. See you there."

I closed the link and locked the signal. They'd think I was in the Psycho Saix, the last thing we need is another Ultimate X sighting. I lowered the Mouth Ramp and Psy shot out, landing in a typical cat pose.

I watched a Great Whale King, at least four times the size of ours, flie up and drop four capsules. These exploded on impact to reveal four Genos. Dear. . . god. . . HA!

They were in four different colors, red, green, blue, and yellow. Red was their leader, of course. And it was covered in Blades, they must have just strapped on a blade to every limb! The green, mechguns. Chain guns hanging from every limb. I'm noticing a pattern. Blue, a sniping rifle. Why do they need a rifle? The tail has one built in! And yellow. Eh, boosters. That's it. All the weapons are boosters. It just. . eh. . goes fast I'm guessing. They all roared in harmony and started their jets, hovering straight toward Psy in a flight formation. Eh, this had to be a joke.

Well, Psy took off full sprint right toward them. I checked the console to see his speed was at least 400. Dear Eve, this was going to be-BAM! Like a bowling ball into the pins. . . all the Genos were scattered, trying to get back in formation. And Psy was just circling, probably toying with them. Then they all attacked. Well, used their weapons anyway. The red lit up all its blades and roared. The yellow took off at a speed near Psy's. Then fell over and skidded a mile. Okay, three left. The green emptied its ammo into thin air. The red just stood there. . .

The blue sniper started spinning around wildly, then fell apart as an invisible bladed Saix probably flashed by. I wish the human eye were faster. . .

The Green also was sliced cleanly in half. The Red was just. . eh. . posing. . . Soon the Saix appeared, finally stopping to stare down the leader. Heh, good thing I was recording this. The Red actually made a gesture to say 'Come on!'.

. . . and a second later Psy had it pinned to the ground, biting it's neck in half like a lion on a gazelle. Eh. . . battle over?

Well, the floating helmet appeared again. Sideways, as the red Geno head is lying in the dirt.

"you've beat us this time. . . we'll be back!"

". . . nice try, Ralph."

The deep, heroic voice changed to the voice of a whiny kid.

". . . you cheated!"

I watched some ant-sized people hop out the demolished zoids and run into their huge Whale. Leaving the wreckage of their Genos behind. . .

"Psy, Nice goin'."

I landed the Whale gently on the surface, opening the hatch.

"Hop in, I'll fire up the sleds and we'll start part two."

"_**Sweet. . ."**_

That Night

Sue and Rax walked in after a day of sight-seeing. Sue greeted me first.

"Hey Chase, how'd the battle g. . . why are you covered in oil?"

". . . eh. . ."

I was sitting in the kitchen drinking whatever was in the fridge, panting from a day of work. Rax stared at my blackened face.

". . . you have a fling with Sue's Snipe or what?"

I took the opportunity of Sue smacking Rax to sneak back to the Hanger. Which was currently filled with the wreckage of the Geno Rangers. All sorted into piles and rows by part and color. Well, actually the paint had been fried off by our Bio-generator. Sue's Snipe was currently on a raised platform with wires hooked up on every limb. And on the second raised platform, the thing I'd been working on all day. Psy was resting off to the side, looking over his own blueprints. When he pounced the Red his ear got nicked by a blade, his first major repair.

"_**Yo, while you were on break the Snipe went to sleep. The wires must have kicked in."**_

I picked up a welding laser and nodded.

"Great, we'll be done by the time she wakes up."

I walked up to the second platform where our creation was nearly complete. I'll give you a brief description. A Geno Saurer. A bit longer than usual, claws, tail, cannons, everything intact. We'd made it from the scrapped Geno Ranger parts. Now, the catch. It had been stripped of all outer plating, exterior features, and structure add-ons. The end result? A giant fully alive Geno skeleton. Like something out of a museum, metal bone structure, even a fully detailed skull-head cockpit. So it looked like a dead Geno, made out of silver bones. Now for the special features.

Why no armor? None needed. This thing had a surface-based shielding system, allowing us to strip off the extra weight for max-speed potential. And next to the spinal cord neck base were two extra skulls mounted on the shoulders, each housing small CPC cannons used for short range fire. The feet we'd added a Raptor-like claw for style and support. The tail, fully flexible and sniping-capable. And since there was no armor, charging for the Charged Particle Cannon was unstoppable. The trademark claws were now skeletal yet still battle-ready, in fact we'd made them larger for dramatic appearance.

Now for the fun part. I'd stripped some support ribs to make small, realistic looking but non-functional wings on the back. Just for looks, no flight capability despite the usual hover abilities. I did add extra jets into the joints though. Hidden, but more powerful than your average Geno engine. It hadn't been tested, so who knows how it will change performance. But now for the flaw.

You see, it was made from the inferior commercial Geno parts. It couldn't use a full fledged CPC, or the more brutal techniques. But as you will recall, Sue's Snipe houses the core of her first, and very, very original Geno Saurer. Therefore, everything the Snipe learned in its original and lesser form, this thing can do too. At least, after we transfer the zoid core into this body it will.

Now, later on I'll add all the gimmicks her Snipe already has. Mines, cloaking, an even better shield, etc. I'll also have to reprogram and rebuild the cockpit to match her battle style, and overall one-up the current setup. And after the zoid core is intact, we'll paint it a stained bone color. Maybe glowing or just black eyes, some more detail on the three heads, blood stains, the usual features. As I'm reviewing the features as I tell you them, I finished welding the jaw hinge on the far left head. I hopped off, sliding down a detailed spinal column and onto the metal platform. I walked to a console, activated some mechanical arms built into the walls to connect cables to the skeleton in the same way as the sleeping Snipe. I stayed back as I activated the Bio-generator, shocking the skeletal zoid in a rather impressive matter, keeping the charge until it shifted slightly. I waited for it to cool before activating a zoid core transfer sequence. Some machinery whirred to life, finally doing everything automatically. I woke up an hour later in Psy's cockpit, I'd fallen asleep on the console apparently.

"_**Kid, you nearly passed out there. Take the night off."**_

"Gr. . . how's the sequence going?"

"_**The Snipe finally caved when it saw the body. And Sue walked in and saw it."**_

So Sue had seen her future dream zoid. . .

"_**She fainted. . . Rax carried her to her room an hour ago."**_

I stretched a bit, leaning back in Psy's pilot chair.

"So I'm guessing she liked it. . . what are we going to name this thing?"

"_**You mean the Grim Reaper's zoid here?"**_

"Yeah, it needs a fitting name."

"_**. . . Geno Reaper?"**_

". . . sure. As long as the religious market doesn't sue us."

Psy and I shared a nod as we watched the meter rise next to the newly named Geno.

"So, think this thing will let us get to S Class?"

"_**Heck yeah. When does Riz Start battling with us?"**_

"Pffft, ask her manager. She hired some tacky agent."

"_**Well, if she doesn't join how about we put a simulator program in that Command Wolf on steroids? Let it fight on its own?"**_

"Psy, please, no more living zoids!"

Author's notes

Well, Sue is going to have a nice zoid. and their first A Class Battle will be a four-person team, with Team Reckless and their new pilot, Riz in the Command Wolf Urban Assault. Who are they going up against? Anyone but the Blitz Team. Trey/Chase is staying true to his word. And yes, Sue was named after the t-rex skeleton in the chicago Field Museum, which I loved as a kid.And she has a skeleton t-rex zoid. Aee? That's the joke. Merry X-Mas, guys! Thanks for the reviews! Consider the drool-worthy Geno Reaper a present for all you zoid-philes.


	20. Chapter 20

Shortly after waking up in Psy I checked the core transfer sequence.

"99.7. . ."

"_**Good good, now go take a break. Fourteen hours of mechanic work is gonna drive you over the edge. Again."**_

I shuffled off like a kid back to the Pad, finding Rax gone and sue calling six of her friends at once in two rooms at once. She was showing them a picture she'd taken of her new zoid. She didn't notice me walk in, she was too busy talking about the jets or something.

"Well, glad to see you like it. . ."

I walked into my nearly empty room to try and find something to do. I wish I could decorate this place more. All I have is the futon, desk, and a shelf. A few books on said shelf, along with fourteen trophies and that little toy liger with the patched up leg. Wait, isn't the new leg a different color?

Well, twenty minutes of tiny paint-spray and newspaper I was repainting the little toy liger I've had since I was a kid. I painted it a nice shade of red, actually. But what kind of liger was it? I've been wondering that for years. It had similar body type to a Shield, no blades, but the external engine the shield was known for was missing. So it was just a liger. No special features on it at all. Did they even make 'plain' ligers? I left it to dry and wandered into Rax's 'toy room'. He had filled a spare room full of those several hundred zoid models. They were pre-made, so he wouldn't kill anyone. He more or less had them on the shelves that lined the walls. He even stacked them up by breed and type. I ran my hand over a shelf holding the Death Stinger family and brushed some dust off the Death Saurer. It's odd to see the biggest, most deadly zoid of its time standing at twelve inches tall to scale.

I looked to the center of the room to see a sturdy table holding several models, probably ones Rax was interested in. There was the pale Snipe Master. The Blade Liger. A purple Slash Liger, go figure. And there was a tiny, plastic image of the Psycho Saix. I picked it up to check the details. The ZBC sold models to attract the public, they must have made this one off the pictures they took of Psy. There was several Geno variations on the table, each one specialized to its field. I wonder how the Geno Reaper would look as a toy. Wait. . .

The Reaper wasn't a blueprint I downloaded like the Juggernaut, it was an original design. What did I know about this thing? I created it, but how would it work? I picked up a red Geno figure and tossed it between my hands as I walked back to the living room. Sue was still on the screen, Rax was probably out wherever. I walked back into my empty room, placed the red model on my desk, and took out the ZBC PDA I sometimes used to check my messages. I opened a text window and started to type out some thoughts.

'Concept design: Enhance a Geno using superior part formations.

Method: Construct with factory-made parts, infuse a living core of experienced Geno

Design Result: The speed-enhancing design somehow ended up looking exactly like a skeleton, is this normal?

Code name: Geno Reaper, named for Grim Reaper

Questions

Is the death-like appearance a coincidence?

Will it be able to move on its own?

Will its performance exceed hypothesis?

Should the appearance be 'toned down' as to not be terrifying?

Can it evolve?'

The last note made me stop writing. This was a man-made zoid, could it possibly evolve into something else? As I went back to typing Sue walked into my room.

"Hey, Doctor Frankenzoid."

I raised an eyebrow, sitting up on my bed.

"So, you don't think it's too. . eh. . ."

"Scary?"

"I didn't mean for it to look that way. . ."

She seemed curious.

"So. . . it was a mistake gone right?"

I shrugged.

"The whole skeleton thing may actually enhance a few things I didn't plan on."

Sue nodded, probably not listening.

"Yeah, yeah. But could you make me a remote for it? That watch thing you have for Psy is really nice. . ."

I looked at the black watch that used to be Psy's remote card.

". . . what shape you want it in?"

She suddenly waved her hand in front of my face, nearly impaling my eye on a very gothic-looking ring. It wasn't over the top like a skull head, just made of silver and crafted to look a bit old-fashioned. Sue wasn't a bit gothic, so why she wore that ring is news to me.

"Could you implant it into this?"

"The ring?"

". . . I'll order some tools, but sure, could work."

The Geno did need a remote after all. She thanked me then asked when it would be finished.

"Your Snipe's core is loaded into it. . ."

She just stared.

". . . I as going to ask if you could do that, actually. . ."

Sue must be attached to her former Snipe Master. . .

"Well, it's a Geno again. . . so it'll be easier to pilot from the start. Most likely easier than in your old Geno. I just have to run a scan, shock it with the Bio to activate the new features, and paint it."

Ten minutes later I was in the hanger, reading a chart from the scanned Geno.

". . . well, nothing wrong. . . few things I can't recognize, but it's fine."

We hooked it up to the Bio, shocked it, and moved it over to the 'cage' that would paint it automatically. I typed in the colors, Sue suggested a yellowed bone tint instead of white. I also added some dirt-stains for sport. Soon the Hanger smelled like spray-paint as the Reaper started to look like it just crawled out of a grave.

"Trey, how do I see out of the cockpit?"

She meant since the eyes looked like black, dead sockets.

"Cameras built into the skull, back, tail, pretty hard to ambush this thing."

A beep was heard and we admired the dinosaur from hell. The wings still looked great, even if it didn't fly. The two heads on the shoulders looked more realistic, as did the main head. This thing looked straight out of a museum, who would have guessed it was a zoid.

". . . this thing has regular lasers, cannons, CPC, all that?"

"More punch, but should look similar."

Sue was in awe at this thing. Soon the paint dried and she practically flew into the cockpit. I came with up the spinal column, opening the skull to see a high-tech cockpit exactly like the Saix and Slash, hologram screens, comfy chair, but they looked out of place in something so old-looking. I started tapping away, linking this thing into our system. Then I helped her program her stats into it. Soon it was rigged up exactly like her Snipe Master, with just a few minor improvements. God, no more improvements. . .

". . . can I take it out?"

I checked our location.

"I'll fly us over to a canyon, mind if Psy and me tag along?"

She just nodded and stroked the controls of the Reaper, probably off in her own world. I just shook my head slightly and hopped out, typing in a deserted location at the main controls and then hopping into Psy.

"_**Well, how's she like it?"**_

". . . two of a kind."

"_**. . . it seems to be a trend in this team. . . me and you, the Liger and Rax, the image of death and her zoid."**_

". . . how does the zoid like the new body, anyway?"

"_**Think ten year old girl getting a pony."**_

We chatted until the mouth ramp lowered, giving us a view of open desert. I had Psy sprint and long jump off into the sand, and we watched our Geno-from-Hell hop off the ramp, activate the jets and glide a quarter mile before landing. Glide?!

"_**Eh. . . is that from the jets and the lighter frame or. . ."**_

As if to answer our question the Geno jumped, with a standing start, nearly a few hundred feet into the air, then started moving forward in a straight line. The jets were allowing it to fly somewhat, not the decorative wings.

"Ah. . . eh. . . a flying Geno Saurer. . .that wasn't in the blueprint. . ."

Sue's hologram head popped up next to me, screaming.

"Oh my god! This thing can freakin' fly?!"

"_**News to us. . ."**_

Sue kept whooping in a way that scared us.

"But the wings are just bolted on!"

"There are extra jets in every joint. . . the wings aren't doing anything."

Sue flew a shaky circle around us, like a bird leaving the nest.

"_**. . . isn't this a good thing. . .? I mean, sure it trashed our theories, but we have a semi-aerial zoid. . ."**_

I leaned my chair back to I could watch closer.

"Well, it can hover and float pretty damn high. . . what if we re-did the wing structure to work like an airfoil?"

Psy seemed to mutter to himself through the speakers.

"_**Hm. . . wouldn't change the appearance. . ."**_

"Sue! Get back down here, we need to test ground speed!"

I watched the dinosaur float back down, landing in the sand without stirring any dust. Then it shot forward and was gone.

". . . that had to be 250. . ."

"_**270. . ."**_

". . . how fast does a commercial Geno go, like eh. . ."

"_**150. . ."**_

Great, we had another speed-demon. I started writing notes to myself as the zoid popped back at a similar speed. Sue's head popped up again.

"I got nearly 290!"

". . . don't get cocky, me and Psy got 500 last week. . ."

"_**You should have gone before we left. . ."**_

"Oh, like you know what it's like to have a bladder."

Sue's head broke up our bickering.

"GUYS! Geez . . . can I try the claws?"

Psy nodded his giant metal head. We watched the living skeleton flex its bone-claws and suddenly extend them nearly twice the length of it's body, then sending a purple charge through both of them.

"_**. . . well, I'm scared shitless. . ."**_

When the claws retracted they spun around like an egg beater, then cinched the fingers into a make-shift stabbing object. Then the spinal-looking tail whipped about, ready to impale some one.

"Eh. . . any target to test the guns?"

Suddenly the skeleton spun on a dime, locked its claws easily into the desert, and started rotating perfectly around the horizon. Then she stopped, the tail going ram-rod straight. Her holo-head squinted.

". . . a rock about six miles off. . ."

A silent pulse of energy came out the tail tip and shot off into the distance.

"And. . . now it has my initials in it. . ."

Psy and me just stared.

"_**Um. . . we'll use our imagination about the CPC and the guns all over. . ."**_

Sue seemed a bit disappointed.

"Fine, fine. . ."

I had the Whale open its mouth, still nearly a tenth of a mile in the air. I got Psy into full sprint, and was near the whale in a millisecond. I pulled back a lever and we were airborne, then landing softly in the Hanger. We skidded a bit and spun to see the Reaper float like a feather into its parking space.

"_**Wow. . . a female who knows how to park. . ."**_

The claws flexed in our direction, I jumped out of the cockpit and sprinted for my bedroom.

"_**Please! Not the face!"**_

Author's Notes

The next chap will be a battle. I know most of you are probably spending their lonely nights fantasizing about the zoids I come up with. Well, too bad you perverts, this is science fiction. But seriously, thanks for the reviews. I only did this chap for people to understand the Geno Reaper, Psy had a chapter too when he came out. The Slash Liger is self explanatory but I'll try to give it some lime-light.


	21. Chapter 21

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Zoids, but I do own everything original in the story. And if anyone wants to use the Geno Reaper or Psycho Saix as cameos, ask me first.

"…and my client also requires coverage in all related clips and documentaries."

Sue, Rax, and myself were staring at Riz's proposed contract, Rax reading aloud. Sue suddenly tore it in half, tossing the pieces onto the table.

"Can we do this after the battle? Honestly, we don't even do commercials, why does she have to approve of name brands?"

We picked up Riz at the public hanger, then flying out with her aboard to our proposed battlefield.

During the flight sue showed her the Command Wolf, giving her some basic tips on the controls. Rax and I had spent a day installing a few features onto the Wolf, that Riz didn't have to know about. Namely a self-processing computer matrix, in case her piloting is truly that bad. Of course knowing her zoid will go into auto-pilot is probably a bit discouraging, we can't afford to show any false weaknesses.

Cut the chit-chat, our little bar patron is back from vacation. He came to the bar early today, it's a full house. Everybody has to see the first Reckless Class A bout. So far the network is focusing on their opponents, the Barrage Team. Classic Dibison, Blue Raynos, an amazingly piloted Cannon tortoise, and a modified Shield Liger, covered on both sides with mech-guns and other missiles. The network had been running interviews with them for the last hour, get the battle on already!

Finally, that gray Whale King flew up. We watched four dots drop off and disappear. Wait, four?! The network cameras zoomed in on the landing site but there wasn't anything there. Why was Reckless dodging the cameras? Team Barrage was in formation, all facing a different direction in a circle. Then something flashed around them in a circle and stopped in front of the Liger, the Saix of course. Then the Slash Liger, in all tis urban glory, jumped off a roof and landed next to Brand. Then a smoke bomb went off next to them, must be for effect, the battle hadn't been called on yet.

When the smoke cleared…is that a Juggernaut?! They have a Juggernaut now?! Dear god, I loved those things as a kid! Digi-camo, very nice…so they replaced the Snipe-Wait…they have a new pilot. Hm, some no-name. Well, nice zoid at least. The Judge called on the battle, still no sign of that Sue and her Snipe. Well, before Barrage could start firing the Command Wolf had already shot them full of holes. The the Liger pranced up and literally slashed their guns off, leaving the Shield Liger untouched. Well, almost on cue the Urban Assault and Liger disappeared into the mess of old buildings that they were battling in. The Saix waved its paw at the crippled Team and jogged off, apparently wanting them to follow. Well, all four apparently enraged Barrage members ran after him, following him a quarter mile into a tight alleyway, where there was no sign of the Psycho Saix.

Then both ends of the alley were covered by the Juggernaut and the Slash Liger, the Saix appearing on a roof over them. How did he jump that high? Well, normally Barrage would start firing wildly, my brother likes to watch them sometimes. But since the shield liger was the only armed one, it settled for just spinning around in a panic. Then a zoid de-cloaked next to them in the alley, so the Snipe had been hiding right next to the-…

A minute later the Judge announced something.

"_**Team Barrage has forfeited, battle over!"**_

That…was not a zoid…the battle had been over for ten minutes and the network kept playing the footage over and over again, like a national disaster. The first thing we thought was a Geno. Then the camera focused. It was a Geno skeleton with three heads. That was all we had to know.

It just looked at Barrage with those dead, glowing eyes and they forfeited. Then Reckless ran off to their Whale, the Geno taking flight with some bony-wings we hadn't noticed until now. A flying Geno of death…A command Wolf Juggernaut…A Psycho Saix, whatever it was…And a Slash Liger.

The entire bar stared for an hour, not saying a word. Then suddenly we were in an uproar, both at the new Wolf and the new Geno breed. We found out the name of the 'Geno Reaper' and soon we were all ordering subscriptions to every Reckless Battle for the next year. The same happened at every bar, this team had just gotten into A Class and people were making petitions to put it into S, for the safety of the other A Class teams, apparently. And another new thing, Reckless had a logo. A capital R made out of save-looking slash marks. Needless to say I soon owned a baseball cap, jacket and underwear with that logo.

But how about that new pilot? All she did was fire the machine-guns and show up at the 'trap'. With a zoid like that a chimp can get to S Class. Just aim and press the button. Hey, at least they can do four-person teams now.

Well, this is pretty close to the view of a real bar patron. The footage of the Reaper, the silence, everything. Our fan-base had gone from a sideshow fun-fest to a serious battle crowd. After the 'Battle' we received some messages from the ZBC. There were, in fact, petitions for the promotion of our team to a higher rank. Purely for one reason, people don't want to see endless KO after KO. We were promoted to A because they hoped we'd be challenged, that'd we be on par. Well, just the sight of a custom zoid won us a battle. Now, a lot of other lower teams have sponsors, and can customize their zoids like we have. To an extent.

Let's be honest, Psy has been an advantage off the battlefield too. He used reverse psychology to get us a Slash Liger, advised us to a Command Wolf variation that a child could operate, and also helped me design the Reaper. Also, the ZBC wants info on this new Geno. They want to do a full body scan and mold, they want an arsenal registration, and they want to make sure we won't use it to take over the planet. Just kidding, weapon registration is optional.

That battle was probably our easiest, their Shield Liger didn't even take a shot. I admit that the Liger pilot had to be decent, he dodged me and Rax's slashes and kept his zoid untouched. His team-mates overpowered him to forfeit. Then again, he wasn't the leader, he was a mercenary. I talked to him before we took off, it always helps to know a good pilot. Who knows, maybe he'll wake up and find a shiny new Blade Liger where his Shield had been.

Our post-battle meeting in the kitchen went as usual, Sue drinking, Rax nodding, and me rattling off possible ways to upgrade whatever hadn't been working at 300 power.

"Yep..."

"Well, that Geno needs a (hic) needs a…like a trophy shelf built in.."

"What if I tweaked the blade supports on the Saix and Liger to a higher cutting angle…"

Just imagine thirty minutes of that.

An hour later we were flying to ZBC HQ, yep, the Ultrasaurus. We actually landed on a tiny shelf built into its leg, it's that big. I supervised as several technicians recorded every detail of the Reaper. They even did a simulated weaponry test and an interview with me to ask about creating it. And Sue about how it piloted. And they asked Rax if he'd like a piece of candy. He did.

Everything went routine until some guy in a jacket came up to me and asked about how I knew about zoid cores.

"…eh, I read some older Scripts on the topic."

The guy didn't seemed to believe me.

"Well then…we've finished recording the profile on the 'Reaper'. We've chosen to use your name, as it is original enough."

I was a bit flattered, I named a zoid.

"…we want you to make zoids for us."

…the ZBC wanted me to make or modify zoids for them? What?

"Excuse me, but I prefer the battle life."

He smirked a bit, probably an ex-pilot himself.

"Heh…same here. You're Max's Boy, right?"

Hey, Max's old battle buddy. Get this, he was president of the ZBC. I was talking to a living God. And he wanted to hire me to experiment with zoids and give them the designs.

"And as for the pay…"

By now we were in his private furnished office, on the couch and sharing a bowl of peanuts. He wrote down a figure on the napkin and passed it to me, a drama king I'm guessing.

"Sir, you put a comma down instead of a peri…"

…wait…how did math work again? 1, 2, 3…

"…Sir, our Whale King cost less than this…"

"That's annual pay…every month in slow times, plus royalties on your design, which will be much more."

…must…not…ask for less money…

"Well, later on we may give you a raise…"

Two hours later the ZBC Medical Wing brought me back from fainting. I sat up in my hospital bed and just nodded.

"…I'll take it!"

I told Sue and Rax as we left. Well, Sue fainted. Rax asked if I'd buy him that planet next to Zi, the one with the giant fish. Well, six months ago I was a desert hick with no funds or life who ran away to the city. Then I got a zoid. Then a high-ranking team. Then a sponsor. And now a contract to do what I love, for enough money to be able to buy a country, blow it up, and rebuild it twice a day for as long as it's entertaining. But that's not all. There's something even better in all this.

I get whatever I want from the ZBC catalog…for free!

The next day we were sitting around waiting for the ZBC to give us info on the public outcry for the fact we're taking out losers. I was sitting on the couch, watching tv in my official ZBC jogging suit and hat, eating chips from the ZBC nacho bowl. Watching a movie on the order-only ZBC Movie Channel. And also watching a battle on ZTV. Sue walked by in a ZBC robe/towel and asked where the ZBC bathroom stuff was.

"In the third cabinet."

"Thanks."

She left, Rax walked in on her while she showered, he ran out screaming and hid under the ZBC themed covers of his bed. In an official ZBC grease monkey jumpsuit. Sue walked out in a ZBC towel, shaking her head.

"I didn't even threaten the guy…geez, with all the girls he's with he freaks at one nude one."

I shrugged, honestly not caring. She kept going, for some reason.

"Think it's the tattoo?"

She has a tattoo?

"Eh…what is it?"

She showed me her lower back.

"…yeah, that's pretty scary."

She covered back up and left, I just shook my head.

"HA! Geez, who ever did that tattoo has no idea what a Geno's tail looks like…touché on the naked women, though…"

What I lack in hormones and sensuality, I make up for in knowledge of giant animal robots. The intercom buzzed.

"Chase, this ZBC seat cover is really nice…order me three more, I like layers."

"Hey, it's all free, why not?"

I love this job.

Author's Notes

Well, the ZBC now owns a portion of Team Reckless. Well, not really, but Trey gets to do fun experiments now. But it's interactive! In the reviews, you guys give me the name of an existing zoid, inferior or fantastic, and Trey will enhance it in his own little way in the background of the story from now on. Thanks for the reviews, and start giving me zoid names!


	22. Chapter 22

Max had invited us down South. He had just sent a casual email this morning, ten minutes later we were at 60,000 feet with the tail blasting the North. I was in the 'Command Room' in the captain's seat, Sue and Rax in one of the hundred chairs in the glass chamber. Rax was playing with a bright green liger model.

"Trey, what kind of zoid does Max have?"

I smirked as the clouds flew by.

"He had an old Lightning Saix…"

Sue and Rax looked over, just realizing where I got the Saix from. Sue looked a bit interested.

"I thought he just trained you…so Psy is the old WTF-model he used?"

"One and only…"

Sue reached over and grabbed Rax's Liger, setting it on her lap like a cat.

"…I saw one of his message printouts. He said he's after an Ultimate X."

Mercenaries…

"…he hasn't told me anything. He's been planning it for ever, leave town, get me in the ZBC, I help him find it, he gets back into battling."

Suddenly I had their full attention.

"…Team Checkmate…is gonna make a comeback?"

I adjusted my baseball cap and shrugged.

"Supposedly. I've met a few of his team mates when they visited him in the Desert, they've got some freakin' nice zoids."

Rax asked this time.

"…what kinds?"

"Well…you guys ever hear of a Desert Wolf?"

Sue shrugged.

"Seen 'em out West, yeah."

"They have one and the pilot is a freakin' genius. How about a Gun Sniper BOAS?"

"…the Leena Toros special?"

A Leena Toro was any ammo-hog. Heck, they were starting to be called 'Gun Sniper LTs' as in Leena Toros. But back to the model in question.

"Actually it's an upgrade, six extra side guns than the Toros. Back in the day they had a Great Sabre, not sure if it's still being used. And they had the Saix, which apparently Max wants to replace."

Rax grabbed back his model, and soon we separated to different parts of the ship. Sue to her room, Rax to his model gallery, I to my Hanger. Psy was waiting like a cat for the can opener to work.

"_**Chase, where ya been? I've been waiting all morning, I got some designs from Eve."**_

I ran up to him, the word Eve catching my attention.

"Spill 'em…"

The console I was closest to lit up and started loading designs, soon spewing out several blueprints.

"…an armor system…"

Psy nodded his cheetah-molded head.

"…who the heck is this for?"

It wasn't a zoid we had on our team…looked new.

"_**I was gonna ask you that…"**_

"…it's a Liger."

"…_**THE Liger?"**_

…these were plans for the Liger Zero X…three different armor designs identical to the Liger Zero.

"…it's for the X…"

…need a boost here? Well, the Liger Zero X isn't supposed to exist. It's just a ying yang theory that came up when the Blitz Team got to S class. Supposedly, the Backdraft has a clone or different breed of the Zero. Well, I guess it's not such an urban legend if Eve sent us armor plans for it. Wait…why the heck did we get these?

"Eh…why are we getting blueprints for a zoid we don't even own?"

"…_**Chase…you're not supposed to build it…you have to find a weakness."**_

I spun on my heel.

"…is that what Eve said?"

"_**Yep…"**_

I sighed, hunching back over the console as blueprint after blueprint flashed by.

"So the X exists…judging by the structure it's either a clone or the real thing…"

"_**Real thing?"**_

"…sometimes zoids are created with a complete opposite. A complete counterpart. Neither can beat the other. Sometimes they can fight for centuries, neither gaining any ground."

"…_**that's just a fairy tale, Trey…"**_

"Psy, this blueprint says otherwise. The formation of the Ligers is identical in the basis, but they also have differences that keep them matched."

"…_**Like?"**_

"…the X has energy attacks, the Zero has none in base form. The Zero can do serious damage close-up, but the X has some flaws hanging in the air."

"_**But these are armors…"**_

"…the CAS system wasn't a natural feature. That Toros guy somehow made the armor system compatible with the Ultimate X, to make up for the Liger's flaws."

"_**But it's a living zoid…that's like instant S Class, we learn more than the pilots."**_

"…the Blitz Team seems to need results fast, the armor system got them to S Class. But it's just an add-on, the zoid itself is a complete separate dimension."

"_**So it's a weaker Ultimate X with artificial help…"**_

"…it's not that weak."

True, just watch one of their battles without the armors.

"_**So there are two Zeros, one on each side. One has the armors, the other is making or has made them."**_

"…the armors may be the only way one will beat the other."

I zoomed in on a unique blueprint, Psy looking over my shoulder in his giant, emotional way.

"_**But without the armors, they'll fight for all eternity one on one."**_

"Bingo…now why did Eve send us this if we're not involved?"

"…_**this isn't some ZBC thing...those two Ligers are a chess piece in all this."**_

I nodded, agreeing silently and sealing the prints into a file. Honestly this whole affair was scaring the hell out of me.

"…_**wait…the X can't use energy attacks."**_

"…haven't you read the tabloids? They say it's black, blue and gold and uses lighting-style attacks."

My talking zoids looked doubtful.

"…_**Eve never uses Black and White…Red and White is more her style."**_

"…so you're saying the X originally has a Red armor, that's just like the White Zero…"

"**_..and the Zero should have another armor that uses lightning."_**

"…did Eve tell you this?"

"_**Nah, I just watch cop shows a lot."**_

…never mind him. Needless to say, I wrote all this down and ran off to call the ZBC. But I didn't tell them the whole thing, just a quick tip-off. That there may be another armor design compatible with the Zero, and that the X is very, very real. Within seconds I was in a video-chat with the ZBC President himself.

"…and then Max grabbed the shot, drank it, and asked the guy for ten bucks!"

"Um…sir, the Liger Zero X…?"

He got back to business.

"…so you have found evidence it exists."

"…well, it's not exactly like the tabloids are writing."

He held up one of the trashy magazines for the camera, showing an all-black Liger with lightning strikes. What a lousy photo-editing hack.

"…we believe that is just a CAS armor...the Backdraft has made the armor to match their own ztyle, and to use energy attacks…in its base form it is most likely Red and identical to the White Zero."

"…I apologize, but how is this useful to us?"

…I'll spare his life, somehow…

"Sir…I honestly don't know…can you give me the location of the Blitz Team, as of current?"

He checked a file.

"…they are traveling down South, they're attending a private battle."

I leaned back, thinking. Well, we were in the same area, front row seats for a great battle.

"Sweet…who they up against? We may watch the slaughter before I talk to Toros."

"…I believe the Geno Rangers Team."

…yep, the President of the ZBC and a zoid fan shared a two-hour laugh.

"…HAHA! Whew…seriously though, _Chase, _can I call you that?"

"…Max's old nickname? Sure."

"Well, I need a new zoid design, but it's a special order…"

"…what, special forces, underwater, aerial?"

He shrugged.

"Daughter turning sixteen…"

"…sure."

"She really loves zoids, and I want to get her a Liger, I'm a Republican after all."

(Get it? The Republic, Empire…Republican? They like Ligers?)

"…what model?"

"…you ever see a plain liger?"

I had a flashback to the model on my dresser.

"Sir, I'm doing this pro-bono."

I was going to enjoy this…

Author's Notes

...where are all the reviews? Usually I wait for two before getting another chapter done but I did this because by tomorrow, New Years Day, I'll be too wasted to tell my keyboard from my abs. Once you guys started reading again you can start suggesting zoids for Trey to modify, the Mad Thunder I'll keep in mind though, after he gains the ZBC's trust. And if you didn't like my Republican joke, you're going to wake up with the bloody heads of your zoids models next to you in bed.


	23. Chapter 23

"Chase, if you'd just put down the wrench and we could…"

I hissed, grabbed the piece of fruit and my wrench and scurried back to the garage. I was a bit animal-like when I'm really into a project. I'd been going for six hours now, this was a full job. They didn't send me a zoid, they sent me some parts.

Before they arrived I spend all night constructing a 3D model and blueprint series. Rax commented it looked like that toy liger on my desk. Exactly. I had in mind not a custom zoid, but a whole new breed. This was going to change everyone's view on transports, and on zoids.

After stealing food like the little gremlin I am, I went back to welding the torso to its limbs. Then buffering the seams, then spending an hour on each limb. Then I took a break and worked out the appearance, another four hours. Then worked out a paint job, then built the cockpit. Then rebuilt it. Then another redesign. Well, repeat six times and this is how I built it.

But this was all before we reached Max's place, I'll cut to that. Well, did I mention his sister's family was rich? Like, never worked in their life, ride the servants like ponies rich? Well, their double-wide mansion had a landing area for aerial transports, so we dropped down off the ramp and started walking the six miles of garden paths to get to the door. Then some guy in a hover-cart drove up.

"…MAX!"

…there he was…seven months older, but there he was. He always struck me as a detective look-alike. Slightly pale, aged face. Salt and pepper goatee, same with the gelled back hair. Dark green eyes that contrasted with his face, that scared the hell out of most people. He seemed really laid back compared to his days back 'home'. Must be the weather. He was wearing a jacket-pants combo that was extremely similar to my own fashion tastes, gee, what a coincidence.

"…boy, what are they feedin' ya? You look half-way healthy."

I looked at him under my hat and smirked, what, you expected a hugging fest?

"Back at ya'…"

He hopped out of the cart, getting a closer look at us. He was about my same height, looked more imposing though.

"Well…Team Reckless…"

We all stood up straight, this was a pilot from the Golden Days of the ZBC, and we were still rookies, somehow. He paced a bit in front of us like a drill instructor, stopping in front of Sue.

"…Sue Ryder…I have a few clippings about you from your mercenary days, sorry to hear about your Geno."

Then he flashed a wink at me then looked back at her.

"…you move in that Reaper like a swan from hell. Keep it up."

She formally accepted the compliment, by shrugging and grunting under her breath. Max nodded at this and stepped in front of Rax.

"...Rax…used to record those bouts you did out East, about time you joined a team. And owned a zoid."

Rax nodded absentmindedly.

"…well, just keep doing your thing…"

Then he stepped in front of me, glaring.

"…And my replacement…well, the fact my old zoid evolved after I gave it to you is a bit much…but now you have my nickname…you worthless little…"

He screamed some profanities at me before we just hugged each other, laughing. This was an act he did, he was always young at heart. Then he got us all in the cart and sped up to our Whale like a little kid, wanting to see the zoids. He then did an inspection of our living quarters. I'll sum it up in one sentence.

"…well…eh…you certainly have a lot of strategic devices…"

Well, Rax ordered more models, and they were currently on every flat surface available. The kitchen counter, the couch, tables, chairs, the winged ones hanging from the ceiling, and also filling most of the spare rooms. Then he checked out the garage, I tapped the lights revealing the Saix, Liger, and the Reaper. He went to the Geno skeleton first.

"…so I hear the ZBC has you making zoids now…this is a good start. Scary as hell."

Then the Liger.

"…the street art is nice."

Then he noticed something in the corner, my project for the President's daughter.

"…holy…geez, wonder where you got this idea…"

I walked up and hit a light, standing next to him looking at what appeared to be a smaller, more basic version of the Shield Liger. No mane like the Blade, no extra guns like the Shield. And while the Shield had bare black sections, this one was fully blue, it resembled a Command Wolf in that way. Both sides had a single small gun, nothing special. The legs had a bit of armor, but just enough to move around. Overall it was a nice-looking but lesser form of a Liger.

"…it's for the President's"

"Chett?"

"…Chetts daughter."

Max nodded.

"Hmm...looks like a good starting zoid for a 16 year old…why did you just make a downgrade though? I mean, you made a Geno from hell but this looks like an economy model Liger."

I nodded, expecting this to come up.

"…and it cost about.."

Max stared at the amount.

"…and for retail it'll be just above that, it's easily mass produced. Easy to customize or upgrade, many color options. Extremely easy cockpit. This thing could go two ways, a good starter for a battle pilot, or the ultimate form of civilian transport. It's faster, and grander than a car…"

Max slowly smiled.

"…you made the zoid that everyone can afford…"

I shrugged.

"…it will revolutionize what everyone thinks about Zoids…"

"…so you go both ways…metal killing machines, and user friendly family transports…"

"Back seat optional…and convertible, the cockpit slides back instead of a hatch."

Sue and Rax were nodding at all this, wondering how much money this will rake in. Sue got the guts to ask.

"So you get so much for each one sold…"

"Plus a large amount for giving them the design."

"…and they can mass produce these things…"

"…yeah, we'll be stinking rich."

I turned back to Max and nodded toward Psy, who had not moved since we entered.

"How about checking out your old zoid? You always wanted to see it in good condition."

We walked over and he whistled.

"…yep…that's the Saix…ten times better…but hey, at least it can walk…"

"…I got 600MPH last week…"

"…that too…"

"…_**you…left...me...to…ROT!"**_

Rax ran off to his room, Psy sounded pissed. Sue and I just watched, in on the joke. Max looked like he was about to have a heart attack.

"…_**HA! Seriously though, good to see ya."**_

Max burst out laughing, new to Psy's humor, and we left them alone to chat about the old days. We stayed two days down here, never once went into the mansion. Max drove up every day and we showed him everything we had going on, talked about whatever there was to talk about, and left after he called and said his nephew saw our Whale and was sprinting down the path toward us. He was pissed over us scrapping his zoids into making the Reaper. Well, by the time he got here we were just a speck in the sky.

One Week Later

"…and a commercial spot!"

I was in the President's office, I had shown him the zoid and given him all the details and plans. He was going to use it for a whole new campaign to make zoids mainstream media. He wanted to make these things by the thousand and use them to replace some lesser forms of transportation.

Think about it. They were cheap, powerful, not too powerful to the point of doing any damage. They were very fast compared to cars. They could be customized to fit any lifestyle or person. And they're just plain kickass. And the prototype wasn't going to be given to his daughter, he stated right away. He would have his techs make another one for her, he said the prototype would be worth millions.

"…and I'm sure it will be safe and useful in your hands."

…great, another zoid to park.

Another Week Later

Team Reckless, and Riz, and Clara were sitting in our Whale watching some football game in the living room. Honestly, none of us knew what was going on. Then the commercials started. Two about some sex pill, one about soda, then the screen changed to a shot of the Ultrasauras, with a dramatic voice over about the power of zoids. Then panned back to reveal a tiny blue Liger. Yeah, my zoid had a commercial. It was an official ZBC thing, with testing footage, performance charts, political statements, and a picture of me and my Saix listed as the designer. At the end of the thirty second spot, they showed all sixty optional features, add-ons, and alternatives.

We all nodded, approving of it. The President, Chett, called a minute later, the ZBC had a get together going on to start off their campaign.

"Chase! You're a freakin' genius! We just got ten thousand orders!"

"…t-ten…thou…"

"Just from the commercial! And they're still pouring in! And just a note, everybody in the ZBC ordered at least two. My daughter has a picture of you on her nightstand, she loves the Liger!"

We'd decided on just calling it the 'Liger'. No adjective or anything, just Liger. I clicked off after he said he had to go. Then shook my head slightly, thinking this was an odd dream. Then right as I turned back to the living room the screen rang again, I caught it. It was one of the ZBC Techs.

"Mr. Brand…we've been monitoring one of the Ligers, this morning we walked in and found a Shield Liger in its space."

"…it evolved?"

"Yessir…congratulations, you've given every person who couldn't afford a zoid the chance to get one of the Liger Evolutions. This will be announced during the next press statement."

I talked a bit more with him before signing off and going back to the living room.

"Well, one of the Ligers evolved into a Shield…"

All four people stared.

"…you mean they're alive?"

It was Sue who asked, Clara and Riz were pretty left out.

"Yep…"

The intercom buzzed.

"…**_just heard…Eve says you're welcome."_**

And he buzzed out.

Author's Notes

Things will be back to normal by enxt chapter, I'll include a flashback to the Blitz Team-Geno Rangers battle.


	24. Chapter 24

"_**Sparky, don't grind your fingers off there…"**_

I was sharpening a blade on the Slash Liger, intent on getting it sharper than physically possible.

"_**Come on…you don't have to work yourself to death just because you woke up with…"**_

I winced and sharpened faster.

"_**I mean, so you and Clara don't remember anything. Doesn't mean anything happened."**_

"…Psy, how the heck do you know anything about waking up after a party with a friend of the opposite gender?"

"…_**saw it in a sitcom?"**_

I sighed and stopped sharpening.

"…so, any updates on Geno Rangers?"

I was changing the subject to something lighter-toned. Namely that battle we watched down south, Blitz Team versus Geno Rangers. But hey, our first flashback.

We got the area data from the ZBC, and floated off to the side high enough to not get hit with anything but have a great view. Well, that was too safe to be fun so we dropped down in the zoids to sit in the desert and watch just outside the assigned area. Pretty much the sidelines. Psy and I were stretched out on the sand like a sleeping cat, chin on paws. The Slash Liger was on its haunches, making little drawings in the sand. The Reaper, eh, I'm not sure. The cloaking device was on. And usually a cloaking field just blends in color wise. Well, I couldn't see it at all. So I checked the infared screen to make sure she was there.

"Sue, what's with the invisibility?"

"…no reason."

Our communication system was ever cleared with the new zoids. Speaking of new zoids, here comes the Geno Rangers Great whale king. There are the launch capsules…and out come crawling four technicolored Genos. They shake the dust off and stretch a bit, just to show off. Looks like they upgraded.

They were the same design as in the battle with Psy, the speedy but useless Yellow, Blue Sniper, Bladed Red, and the Green with mechguns. Except nearly a half size bigger than last time. With even more of their corresponding weaponry. And now the entire zoid was painted its color, with the pilot's name on the chest and back. We sealed our com-signal and laughed our heads off. I tapped a button in Psy, testing out the new Cloak I put in the other day. It was more for novelty than battle. The ZBC only allowed one official option per battle. Booster, Cloak, Mines, or Smokescreen. I watched the panels indicate we were nearly as invisible as the Reaper. I looked over at the Slash Liger to see it also had cloaked. We should try using this stuff in battle.

Well, the Geno Rangers didn't even pick up we were watching. Soon the Hover Cargo pulled up and launched each zoid in turn. And finally, I got a view of the Liger. It was pretty much an advanced, basic Liger. They had chosen the white, plain armor. Maybe so they could switch later. Well, pretty nice. Okay, very nice. The Shadow Fox. God, that is one nicely made zoid. Well, it would be if they incorporated some Glow fox technology into it. The Gun Sniper LT. Meh, never been a fan of overkill. Surprisingly the Raynos popped out and soared around a bit. Oh yeah, this was a four on four.

The Judge touched down, scanning the area. He didn't see us or scan use thanks to our cloaking. We were just spectators, anyway. He declared a free-ruled battle and the starting buzz sounded. Quickly the Blitz Team in general started out at the circle of Genos. Well, the Genos started spinning around each other like a pattern. By the time the Blitz Team had sprinted over they had stacked into a pyramid. Yes, like a bunch of cheerleaders. I don't get it either. Then they all locked onto each other. Their tails opened their vents, and started the Charged Particle Sequence. Dear Eve…they were doing a four-times CPC! It was only a quarter charged, ZBC approved blast but by four times?! The Blitz Team took one look and scattered, a good move actually. The Rangers kept charging. Wait…they weren't…before I could think sue popped up on the holo-chat screen.

"…they're not aiming…"

…and she finished my sentence for me. They were just going to fire the CPC at nothing in particular? They kept charging while the Blitz Team, noticing this, just got behind them and bowled into the bottom row. They went down like a stack of bricks and the Fox and Liger kept back as Leena used a Wild Weasel on the pile. Then the Fox and Liger barraged them with Laser Claws. And when the surviving Geno stood up to surrender the Raynos swooped down, picked it up, flew straight up and dropped it like an egg from the air. I like their style already.

The Judge shrugged, gave the battle to the Blitz Team and flew off. The Geno Rangers had to drag their zoids back into their gigantic whale while the winning Team stood around doing victory stances. Well, Leena and who ever the Liger pilot was did. Then all of a sudden my cockpit was covered by smoke. I looked around as Psy jumped to his feet, watching the outlines of the other zoids appear in the dust. The mercenary exposed us with a Smoke Screen…

As the Blitz Team rushed over we de-cloaked, knowing we were had. They stopped dead when they saw our zoids. The Reaper alone kept them back, the Saix and Liger just added on. Except for the Raynos and Fox. The green bird landed softly in front of us as its pilot hailed us, his head popping up in the cockpit in hologram form. Meanwhile the fox just sat down and looked us over.

"…Team Reckless! Sweet, heard you guys finally got into the next class."

…well, one of them wasn't afraid at least. And Jamie wasn't in his wild Eagle persona. I shrugged and returned the message.

"They had a few too many petitions."

Then a second head popped up over my control panel, long brown hair, blank face, strong jawline. I remember sue telling me he piloted the fox.

"…you guys wanna match, or did I expose your imaginary club house?"

…touche'…Right as I was about to comeback Sue's head popped up.

"Actually, Hunter, we were just in town and wanted to watch."

…Sue knew this guy? Well, each hologram head became smaller as they formed a square, this was the basic chat room system.

(Think hologram heads in a Brady Bunch formation)

'Hunter' smiled a Bit at Sue's disembodied head.

"Ryder…long time no see. Nice zoid."

Sue shrugged slightly, she had stopped bragging about the Reaper. Now she was gloating. I imagined they were seeing a tiny head in a baseball cap representing me in their cockpits. Jamie's head looked around, like he was looking for some one.

"Where's the guy with the Slash Liger?"

A little hologram of Rax wearing his bandana popped up, with his usual confused expression. Then another little head of a purple haired girl with two wings in her hair. Rax screamed bloody murder and disappeared, probably in the fetal position in his cockpit. The girl looked confused.

"…hey, that was the guy in the Raptor I blew up once…"

…so that was why Rax was so mentally challenged…

Well, tis little high-tech 'chat room' kept on a few more minutes before I cleared my throat and asked for a little attention.

"…There's a little business we need to go through…"

Everyone shut up quickly. I sighed and continued.

I spent a half hour telling them our info about the Liger Zero X. And its new armor, its three identical to the Zeros, the possible connection between the two Ligers and other events, how cool my Saix is, some questions about the Liger frame, and a suggestion to keep a leash on Leena, Rax may have another heart attack.

The three Blitz Team heads, the Liger guy had never joined the chat, stared at my little baseball capped hologram. The mercenary spoke up.

"…How…the heck…are we gonna explain this to Bit?"

I typed in a file command.

"I made a second version just for that. It uses smaller words and has explanatory pictures."

Hunter, or Brad, whatever raised an eyebrow.

"Nice…could you make one that explains dating for him?"

"…don't push it."

Suddenly the Raynos pilot piped up.

"…hey, what was your name again?"

I shrugged, thankfully Psy had stayed silent the whole time.

"Trey Brand."

The fly boy shook his head.

"I meant the other name. the ones the media is calling you?"

Before I could answer the mercenary did it for me.

"Chase Brand II…"

I let my eyebrows jump up, I actually was known by a few people?

"Your teacher got me into zoids as a kid…"

…so Hunter was a Max fan…then the gun Sniper chick started talking.

"…wait, didn't we see you out in the desert?"

Oh yeah…my first run with Psy.

"…you dodged a Wild Weasel round…in that weird Saix…"

…why was her eye twitching? I felt Psy tense slightly, still not talking. I saw the other holo-heads disappear, leaving just the purple-haired one. I canceled the chat and flicked on the controls, knowing what was going on. I spun Psy around and took off straight ahead. The speedometer started rising from two hundred to three, four…five?! I watched the horizon flash by as I pulled on my oxygen mask, leaning down a bit.

"…_**best time to break a record!"**_

I nodded and adjusted the leg positioning as we broke five, then as the six digit appeared I started the brake, then we just jumped and spun around, instantly getting us to stop. I panted as I took off my mask, shaking my head.

"…why…did we just go past the sound barrier just to get away from her?"

"…_**to give them a message?"**_

"…like?"

"…_**I'm fast and eh…fast?"**_

Idiot…

"…where the heck are we?"

"…same place where you started…"

I spun the zoid around to see the shadow Fox sitting there in the desert.

"…you took off east…came in from the west…what the heck?"

…we did what?! Either we just went through a wormhole around the planet...or…eh…

"…don't ask."

"Will do."

And that was the day I forgot to write about, a couple days before I premiered the Liger. Now, I'm pretty sure they told the pilot about his Liger Zero. And what did I miss during the record run? Eh, just a few Wild Weasel Assaults that took out the Raynos, the Hovercargo, and knocked a few blades off the Slash liger while it was sprinting away. What happened after the party I told about? Eh, the next morning I woke up with Clara next to me. Which never happened. Got it? And the ZBC is sending me zoids to modify, we're picking them up tomorrow.


	25. Chapter 25

DISCLAIMER: I don't own the copyrighted Zoids franchise. I do own all original chars, all original zoid breeds, and even some of these jokes I wrote myself and use whenever I do comedy clubs.

"…what is it again?"

The delivery guy, examining the clipboard, shrugged.

"The guy at the Saurus said it was a Pierce Sniper…"

I rolled my eyes, looking at the spiky gun sniper they'd delivered to our whale King.

"…why do some people get zoids named after them…"

The guy nodded and walked off with his tip, I closed the mouth ramp after him. Then walked up to my first assigned project. Enhance this spike-covered, bladed Gun Sniper with no guns. I knew the body type from my work with the Snipe Master, so this should be easy. Heck, I gave Psy the day off helping me, this wasn't building the next Mad Thunder.

The first thing I did was research what this thing could do. It popped up back in the big War, an organoid mutation I'm guessing. It looked like a stripped down Gun Sniper, with crude spikes added to every limb. The sniper tail was still functional at least, but still. So a sniper with some close combat skills, not very reliable. I stripped off the armor, spikes included, to get at the frame. Then the fun started.

Somehow, the spinal support system is extremely powerful compared to other raptors. This meant it could handle much more weight before its speed and agility would be affected. So, why pass up a good opportunity? Sue and Rax won't be here till midnight, both have something to do. I'm stuck here all day. In the next thirteen hours, I'm gonna kill, resurrect and rebuild this zoid.

13 Hours, Two Minutes Later.

I heard the main hatch open as I took a thirty second shower. I shook off most of the oil and grease, pulled on a fresh set of clothes and walked out to see Sue and Rax walking in carrying shopping bags. Sue noticed the fact I was hunched over like a worker bee without a union.

"…you tried to do the thirteen hour thing again, didn't you?"

…I hate how she does that…

"…I pulled it off…I called the ZBC to pick it up tomorrow."

She dropped her plastic bags on the couch and walked over to the hallway.

"Well, I'll just go take a look then…"

I shrugged, too tired to follow her. Thirty seconds later she ran back, stopped in front of the chair I was lying on, pounced me like a cougar, and got an inch from my face.

"…I want two of those zoids…one Ferrarai red, the other banana yellow…"

I nodded tiredly, not caring that she was pinning me down.

"Sure, sure…"

She hopped off me and went into her room, followed by the sound of her looking through those custom zoid magazines she reads. Great, I just spent half a day making a low-rider zoid for Sue. I later woke up, alone this time, in my room. I must have made it to my own room, wow.

Well, the window currently had a view of, once again, the public Hanger upper deck. We usually floated on the Lake like a houseboat, but we were staying on land temporarily to drop off the ZBC project. I changed my set of clothes and got some breakfast. Right now I pretty much own a few sets of the same outfit. Sue and her friends have been thinking of a way for me to get fashionable, but one breakthrough at a time.

At around ten the ZBC Whale King arrived. I let them into ours and walked them into the Hanger. I flicked on some lights as I joked with the technicians they sent. Then they went silent when they saw the Sniper.

I kept the spikes, at least. But onto the real deals. It was just your basic Gun Sniper, with an attitude. The back now held two impressive, yet medium sized, chain-guns similar to those on the Leena Toros Model. Only the two big guns and a few standards thrown on though, I wanted to keep this thing fast, it was abnormally speedy for its design. The tail had kept its sniper qualities, somehow. It wasn't a Snipe Master, but it could work. And of course, the spikes. I re-designed every spike on the thing. What were formerly little square bumps were now curved, wicked claws. It also had Geno Reaper style claws, but that's not important. The spikes were now on every flat surface. Neck, arms, legs, tail, back, all graced with swept back sword-blades. And the head was a special job. It now had a large, Mohawk-like bladed crest crowning its bird head. The face also had a few spikes protruding from the mouth, nose, and over the eyes in razor-sharp eyebrows. The end result was a raptor head that looked like a biker, rock and roll junkie, whatever. It looked like it had piercings.

"…um…the name?"

I smirked.

"'Pierced Sniper'. My co-pilot, Sue Ryder, kind of loved this design."

One of the newer techs jumped at the name.

"Oh! That chick in the quarters with the eyebrow ring, nose piercing, curves, and a fine…"

He was then elbowed by his supervisor.

"…yep, that's the one…"

They nodded, a bit taken off guard by that story. And by the design of this zoid. It looked like something a street thug would make.

"…how does it perform?"

I shrugged, walking over to the main console.

"Well, probably a bit better than before. Nothing too major. Except for some new features."

I tapped a button on the keyboard, and the Sniper stood up. Then every spike on it, face, armor, everywhere, shot out ten meters into the air, connected to a black cable. The end result was an explosion of hooked cables in every direction. After the cables went limp they retracted back into their place, leaving the spiky zoid just as it was before. The techs clapped a bit.

"…this'll be amazing in close combat! It could capture, if not incapacitate a larger zoid!"

I looked at the guy strangely.

"…actually, it was an enhanced security program for when you leave this in a bad neighborhood…but yeah, that could work."

I tapped a second button and the raptor tucked its head down to its feet, arched its back and formed a perfect spiked wheel, with the two large guns tucked on the sides, inactive but not interfering. I then had it roll around the Hanger like a stray tire before going back into raptor mode.

"…this is very useful in tight situations…but just a warning, the cockpit isn't free-mounted. You could lose your lunch after a few revolutions."

They wrote this down and asked about the color. I had left it a dark silver, unpainted.

"…leave it to the pilot."

Let the pilot choose, whether it be a hardcore punk with money or a mercenary who needs that extra edge. Who doesn't hate how their zoid looks when it comes? Ten minutes later they left and took the complete specs for the Pierced Sniper with them, leaving the prototype in my keeping. Great, another parking space eliminated.

Well, we now have the three main zoids, the old Snipe Master, the Liger prototype. Maybe we'll have to upgrade to a regular Whale King instead of our half-size. Or maybe a Great Whale King. Hell, maybe I'll just make one.

"…Trey…those ZBC guys gone yet?"

Sue had walked into the Hanger, I was screwing something in the Pierced cockpit.

"Yep, they're gone."

She nodded in her unexpressive way and yelled up to the raptor head I was inside.

"You get the tools for my ring yet?"

I'd ordered some special parts to turn her weird diamond ring into a remote for her Geno.

"Nah, the mail sucks these days."

She sighed and left. Then Rax walked in while I was sitting on the tail. Psy was nowhere to bee seen, I dropped him off so he could run a bit on his own. Rax called up to me, even though I was just seven feet off the ground.

"Hey! Chase!"

I called back down, a bit annoyed.

"…my name is Trey…"

He nodded, remembering.

"Hey, is it okay if I use one of the spare rooms?"

"Sure, go ahead."

He whooped in joy and ran off. I sighed, setting down the welding laser. Where, the heck, was I. A year ago I was in a town full of criminals with no hope. Six months ago I was living in the Molga fixing a broken down Saix. Then my zoid was remade, I won the Sectors, made a team, made it through C Class with flying colors, made several to-notch zoids, my zoid TALKs, and on top of it all, I have a place where I can sleep, eat, pretty much do anything and feel like I'm at home. Heck, this is home. A giant metal water-dwelling mammal.

I took a break from welding to hop down and walk back to the living quarters. I walked into my room, locked the door behind me, laid down on my couch and spent ten minutes crying in happiness. I was home. I was finally home, and I hadn't noticed. I'd done more than I'd ever dreamed of doing. I'd gone places I dreamed of going. I could just retire at age eighteen, lay around in this luxury for the rest of my life.

I thought this over suddenly. Why was I piloting zoids? I could retire just off the sales of the Liger, which is coming out tomorrow to the public. Why, was I even bothering doing the whole zoid thing?

"…because you're a freakin' Pscyho…"

I sat up, looked at my awards, my Saix collage, my desk screen filled with zoid concepts, my old, retired duffel bag. And lastly, that little toy liger I'd had since I was a kid. It was always gray, three legged, falling apart. Yet there it stood, on four strong legs. With a forest green coat, proud and stable posture, and a noble expression on its face as it watched a sunset that only I could see. I hadn't really completed my life. I had always imagined life as these trivial things out in the desert. I wasn't finished. I was just getting started.

Author's notes

…bet you thought I was ending this fic…PSYCH! What, did you think I forgot about Trey's past? And like he said, he's just getting started…


	26. Chapter 26

Two Days Later

Today our little bar patron is a happy little fellow. His wife came home and surprised him, apparently she was insecure enough to stop by the plastic surgeon on her way home from work. So everybody just got a free round of drinks, and he's only staying to see one battle. And its one with Team Reckless, his life could not be any better. A good battle, a bar full of friends, and a silicone wife back home, what could be better?

It's only a three on three, so most likely they won't have that Command Wolf out. The other team, with no registered name, floats up in a dark green Hover Cargo. They deploy their zoids single file, nothing too flashy. A black Shield Liger, a standard Pteras evolution, and the main attraction, a gray Konig Wolf. A bar favorite, who doesn't like a giant metal dog with a sniper rifle?

The Whale King drops off the Reckless squad, the cameras focusing on them automatically. Nothing new this time, same old amazing zoids. That Saix, the urban Liger, and of course the Geno from Hades. The two cats dropped down while the Geno, to everyone's surprises, kept on floating, staying suspended in the air. Soon we were all whispering, wondering how the heck did that thing work. The Judge touched down, did his thing, and called it.

Instantly the Saix disappeared to the human eye. The network was still trying to make a way for the viewers to keep up with that freak zoid. Maybe they can have a separate camera for it or something. Well, two seconds later the focus was on the Shield and Slash Liger charging each other. Then a slow-motion replay of the shield Liger flying back and nailing the Konig Wolf in the back. It shuddered a bit but held strong, it is a good zoid after all. It bucked the downed Liger off its back and making a beeline for the slash Liger.

Meanwhile a type of chase was going on overhead. The Geno chasing the Pteras, and not catching it. The Geno COULD fly, but it didn't have the aerodynamics to keep up with a flight zoid. It settled for nailing it with blasts until it started flying crookedly.

Down on the ground the Wolf had a handful with that Liger. It was suffering limb damage, while the Slash was just getting beat back a few yards with each hit. Suddenly the Konig leaped forward in its trademark pounce, then lit up with energy, and collapsed to the ground. The camera caught two bony claws unhooking from the limp wolf, the Reaper then switching its aim back to the stray fly boy. The cameras watched Reckless, without the Saix, shoot without avail at the flyer.

Then in replay we saw out of nowhere a black cat jump in front of the Pteras, like a house cat onto a counter, grab the thing with its paws, stuff it in its mouth and fall back down, landing like a cat with a mouse. The bar just stared. Then slowly started clapping, still dazed. That cat jumped nearly as high as the Geno could fly. And caught the dang thing. The Judge called the battle to Reckless, the Saix placed the flyer carefully on the ground and the winners ran off to their Whale.

…these A Class battles were now challenging to Reckless, but they still managed to turn it into a cartoon chase. Needless to say the announcers had a field day with Brand's little cat and mouse tactic. They also liked Rax's blade work and Ryder's aiming. Our bar patron asked some one to tape the discussion afterwards, he had a wife to go home to.

Yep, that was the battle. But the joke about our bar patron's wife has a bit of a basis. Eh, in the last couple days Sue has been talking about plastic surgery. I'm not sure why, but our quarters are currently littered with pamphlets and magazines about it. I can't even check a phone book number without digging through a pile of pictures of silicone celebrities before and after they supposedly DID NOT get plastic surgery. Needless to say this whole thing scares me, so back to zoids.

I got my check for the Pierced Sniper. I honestly have no clue why they paid so much for it, but whatever. I'm not sure if they're going to release it to the public or keep it as a Special OPS weapon. Either way they wrote that they're sending me a Hel Digunner. I have no clue what that is, but it's a living.

As I read the paycheck again, I was sitting on the back of the Slash Liger surveying the damage. I'd rebuilt all the major armor denting but the blades would need to be re-aligned. We didn't have any upcoming battles scheduled so maybe I could take this at a more human pace.

2.6 Hours later.

"Liger's done."

"…wow, really taking it easy, Chase."

I sat down next to Sue and looked at her magazine. One of the headlines was about us.

"…well, what's it say?"

"…muscular leaders are out of style."

Muscu…what?

"…wait, who are they talking about?"

She flipped an eyebrow at me.

"…go look in that shiny thing on the wall…"

I decided to let that die. I noticed on the page was a picture of us sitting in a restaurant.

"…dang paparazzi…"

She tossed me the magazine and left, I started reading the finer points.

Man, the press did not know a thing about zoids. Every zoid name was underlined and misspelled. They couldn't find a word to describe our battles. And oh yeah, this was all tabloid. The pages were plastered with candid photos of us, each with captions. The best one was a wide shot of all three zoids, and the Command wolf that one time we used it. Caption. 'Are these zoids made by the Backdraft?'

And a whole article to match. Six pages of traits that define a Backdraft zoid. So, they think I'm working for the Backdraft because our zoids are painted black. 90 of privately owned zoids are painted black. They state my background is a bit shady. No kidding. I stopped reading the article before I broke something. It flopped back onto the table, and I jogged back into my workshop. I forget what I ended up doing, took six hours though.

The Next Day

I woke up to find Sue and Rax standing over my bed. Waiting.

"…um, Mornin'?"

"Trey…look out the window."

I did. There was a school of fish flying by, and a coral reef in the background.

"…eh…Rax…did you hit the forest green button in the control room while you were playing with your model kits?"

"Nah."

"…Sue, did you get royally hammered and hit the forest green button?"

"…well, woke up without a hangover."

I was still in bed, them standing next to it like I was some dying rich guy and they were my children. I tapped the intercom.

"…_**you called?"**_

"Psy…why are we on the bottom of the Lake?"

He hesitated.

"…_**you ever see that movie with the submarine full of drunk college kids?"**_

"…no."

"…_**crap."**_

Why aren't we panicking? Whale Kings are designed to work in the air, on the ground, on the water, and under the water. We were basically in a really spacious submarine.

"…so you hit the damn button?"

"_**Hey, I was bored."**_

And he clicked off. I sighed and crawled out of bed.

"Well, at least we're stable down here."

Sue was staring out the window.

"…was that a shark?"

I looked.

"…this is a freshwater lake…"

"Nope, salt water."

I looked at Rax, wondering how he knew that.

"…I drink it when we run out of soda."

Um…isn't salt water…o-kaaaay…

"…yeah, that looks like a shark."

Sue ran to grab her camera, Rax ran off to watch her look for her camera, I ran off because I hate being left out.

For some odd reason, we stayed underwater for a day. Then two days. Then a week. We surfaced to go get some supplies then went back down. We'd found something and gotten hooked on it. Solitude. We hadn't had any reporters. Any last-leg talk show offers. No telemarketers. No religious people knocking on our metal hatch with their holy book asking how we feel about Zoid Eve not existing.

Of course, at night we surfaced and went for runs in the zoids but by day we were just a little house under the water. Sue loved the view. Rax loved the lighting from his window and in his toy room. I loved the peace and quiet in the garage. Psy liked those seat covers I got from the ZBC, he's got like five on him right now.

Author's Notes

...the plastic surgery gag is inspired by my sister, going through the same thing right now. More zoid mods next chapter.Thanks for the reviews.


	27. Chapter 27

DISCLAIMER: I don't own zoids. I own all original characters in this story, all new designs, and a few plot aspects. I also own a piece of the Berlin Wall, it's sitting on my desk right now as a paperweight.

I heard Sue walk in as the black metal bar rose from an inch from my face to arm's length.

"Trey…um…where did you get this stuff…and since when do you lift weights?"

I racked the barbell, incline bench press, gotta love it. I shifted up to talk to her, wearing my usual tee shirt and jeans.

"…this was my entire life out in the desert, Max had a few weights lying around."

…well, we had this huge room in the Whale, and I just endorsed a first-tier fitness equipment company. So I made the home gym I've been dreaming of since I first started working out. Sue looked around at the two dozen pieces of equipment I'd just unpacked.

"…hm…that explains your build…"

…my what?

"…pardon?"

"…look in the mirror."

I walked over to a full-wall mirror and did so.

"…um, what now?"

She walked up behind me, pointing to my reflection with hers.

"…do a bicep flex…"

I shrugged, rolled up a sleeve and did so.

"…do a double arm curve flex, lat spread."

I did so.

"…Trey, you look like a bodybuilder…"

"…a what?"

I've just been training for strength all these years, the bulk I figured was a side affect.

"…gah, stupid muscle-heads…"

And she left me alone. This was actually a common conversation. Apparently I was 'buff' and didn't know it. Scary. I hadn't fully adapted to that part of society. So after my work out I went to talk it over with Sue, who was sitting next to Rax on the couch watching a reality show. It was about fixing up old zoids with a budget. I took a seat on the arm-rest.

"…Sue, how long have I been like this?"

She didn't ask what I was talking about.

"…pffft…you were like that in that pub I met you in…that's how I found out you're impossible to hit on."

"…are YOU attractive?"

She stared. Now she knew how I felt.

"…I get a few catcalls…lot of phone numbers…thinking about that surgery but my friends say I'd look like an adult film star."

"…so, you ARE kind of decent?"

She shrugged, used to these odd conversation topics.

"I guess. You'd be pretty sweet if you lost the hat."

…eye twitch…

"…I didn't hear that…so, maybe this is why we're getting media coverage, good on a magazine cover? What about Rax?"

She looked over at the blank form of Rax watching tv.

"…I honestly don't see it…but this guy gets a barrel of fan letters a day...all of them spell like cheap perfume."

...so Sue didn't know how he does it either…But enough about us, back to zoids. We were off battles right now, they're considering us for a class system change. Not sure what that is. But we did get called up to the surface to pick up a weird, gecko-looking thing called a Hel digunner. Here's my first questions about it.

"…so I have to one-up a Hell Digunner…"

The delivery tech corrected me.

"It's pronounced 'Heil' Digunner…"

…I didn't tip the guy. Well, my version is called the 'Hell Digunner', in your face delivery boy.

The first thing I did is strip away the oxygen tubes. This thing is framed by these tubes that supply oxygen to the cockpit when this thing goes underground for long periods of time. This was my first big challenge. I spent twelve hours standing there with my arms crossed, thinking. Another day later I had the armor hollowed out and the tubing INTERNALLY rigged into the cockpit. This let me get some extra tanks into the tube ports, more underground time. This also eliminated the blaring weakness.

Now for the zoid itself, not its famous digging gimmick. I more or less streamlined the head, edging the cockpit out so dirt would slide right by. At least it should judging by the simulation. Now, here came the oddity. I lowered the stomach closer to the ground by crouching the legs, and built trapdoor panels on the bottom. I'll explain later.

The weaponry, I admit I didn't have to work with. They had a basic spread gun, rifle and what appeared to be an underwater weapon. I realized this thing could go underwater. Well, that changes everything!

Ten Hours Later

"…Chase, what the hell is that?"

I pried my head off the console where I was napping.

"…Psy…explain to Rax what the hell that is…"

Psy has been bored as hell down here. All he does is sit around watching movies. But he seemed eager to talk.

"_**Well, my greasy little friend, this is a zoid based on an animal we have yet to see in real life. Seriously, I think it's a lizard."**_

"…it's an iguana, you idiot…"

Rax was looking at the paint job. It had gone from light green to a dark blue, I just wanted to test out the blue tint on the painting cage. He looked at the now slick-backed head, the extended neck which housed the primary oxygen supply, and the re-built cannons on its back. This thing looked a lot different without the tubes, more like an animal and less like a tank. So a big blue iguana, how creative. HA!

I tapped the control console and the trapdoors on the belly opened up and lowered out a set of wheels. I tapped the control stick and the Digunner took off around the Hanger, it had an odd gimp to it. It kind of jumped with its legs through the air, landed on the wheels and coasted until the legs touched, hopped again, repeat. Rax nodded, seeing how much faster it was. I made it stop, making the wheels turn sideways. They were hollow, like a gear with holes cut in it to make it lighter. They began spinning horizontally, sometimes adjusting as if to steer.

"…underwater propulsion system…"

Rax nodded again.

"…so this thing can go underwater and on land?"

"…_**it also burrows…it's like an SUV zoid."**_

I nodded, going back to sleep on my console. I woke up in my bed, Sue and Rax must have moved me. I stretched a bit, turned on the media screen and checked my messages. Bad news. Very, bad news.

"…and her agent says he'll take her elsewhere."

I was explaining to my team, that Riz had quit. So our optional fourth member who didn't leave here, practice, or do anything at all had requested more pay and left. No bad feelings, she sent me an apology but she couldn't do it anymore. To tell the truth, that single battle she was in, wasn't her piloting. I put in a computer cockpit system.

"…she didn't do anything anyway…"

Sue didn't seem phased, neither did Rax.

"…it does kill off our chance in four on fours…"

I talked it over a bit before going to the Hanger and looking at the gray-camo Command Wolf I'd built from the ground up. It sat there, empty. No occasional twitches like other zoids. Psy was watching a movie in his parking space.

"…_**heard on the intercom Riz quit…too bad."**_

I sighed and nodded, walking up and sitting next to the Urban Assault.

"…bit of a waste…I mean, this thing is ideal for us."

"…_**I gave you the design, I should know."**_

I tried to change the subject, a bit bummed out.

"…any news from Eve?"

Psy got up and stretched like a cat just waking up.

"…_**yeah, she wants to give your new zoids a little spirit."**_

"…English please."

"…_**nothing major, just zoid cores in your new designs."**_

"Yay…"

I walked back to my room without a word. I found out later I had been depressed. As in mentally down, tired, and just out of it, not sad. Riz and Clara had helped me out of a lot, lent me their Molga, gotten me into society, helped me out with zoids early on…wait…Riz and Clara…Clara…

As I was thinking this I was lying on my futon staring at the ceiling. Clara…Riz was a rookie pilot with no experience…I'd only booked her because Clara was in the Sectors. If Clara was in the off-time…the Juggernaut is pretty easy to use…Clara has a pile of Sectors Awards bigger than mine over the years…

The Next Day

I was, hold your breath, above the surface during the day, out in the desert in Psy. We were just doing practice runs, usual drill.

"…and I figured Clara would be a good fourth."

"…_**she isn't tied down to anywhere…"**_

I jerked the controls left, letting the rear paws leave the ground and spin around in a swoop, now facing the other way. I took off again, just doing this back and forth every few miles. We got to 400 miles an hour no problem, spun in a 180 again and back. All the while talking like on the subway.

"…_**meh, go for it, man. We have the rooms. And she's a dang good event pilot."**_

"…what about eh…"

"…_**so you woke up together…?"**_

"…don't…speak…"

He shut up quickly, continuing our drill in silence. We went back to the Whale soon after. Then we went right back out to doing drills.

Sue had gotten the surgery. It only took ten minutes with all this technology. Her friends said it was not needed, and they were right.. Well, Rax ran off into the desert, not to return until we found him two days later, twitching under a rock. And I just stayed in the Hanger all day, sneaking out at night to my room. Eh, I'm a pretty brave guy. But when your best female friend comes home with an expanded measurement where a guy usually stares, you get the hell outta there, man!

Author's Notes

Sorry for the short chapter, I'm between a new weight lifting routine, a photgraphy deadline, Phantasy Star fanfic, three concept fanfics, several full length novels, a comic book storyline, and my golf game.


	28. Chapter 28

DISCLAIMER: I don't own zoids copyrighted concepts, plots or characters. I do own my own original ones, which this fic revolves around.

…okay, now to just replace the film...I guided the beam back to the core and trimmed back the filaments. I was currently looking through a very large lens at a diamond ring, with a very tiny laser and pair of pliers. Sue was standing over my shoulder anxiously. The ring I was working on was a small gold band with a diamond built into the center, it didn't stick out like a wedding ring. Soon I retracted the laser and replaced the outer layer of the diamond. I'd been at this four hours. Take my advice, never work with diamonds.

I pushed back the giant lens and collapsed back in the desk chair. Sue leaned over me to look at her ring.

"…are you done?"

I grunted positively but didn't signal for her to touch it.

"…give it time to settle…"

I had just turned her great grandmother's ring into a remote control for the Geno Reaper. And I was never doing that again, diamond is impossible to cut traditionally. And one of this size needs special tools, which took weeks to be ordered. Well, another hour later I examined the ring again, put it in a formal box and walked over to Sue in the living room, kneeling down and opening the box for her.

"…awww….I knew you'd propose…"

She grabbed the ring quickly.

".I'll just take the ring, thank you."

We both laughed a bit as she slipped the ring onto the tan-lined finger.

"…now, it's all in the twist. You activate the device by twisting it around your finger. Do it once to open voice control, twice to turn it off."

She raised yet another eyebrow.

"…voice control?"

I sat down on the coffee table.

"…talk into the diamond. Say 'bow down' to get the Reaper on its haunches. 'I summon thee' for it to home onto your location and fly there…"

A half hour of which command does what.

Why did I make all the commands gothic and old fashioned? It fit the Reaper. Techno-sounding terms didn't describe this thing, I had to think Dark ages. Besides, Sue loved acting like a witch.

The wannabe-witch _DID_ love the ring. She went straight to the Hanger to break in her new pet, I went straight onto the couch to sleep. Seems all I do is work and sleep these days. By the time I woke up we were on the surface of the lake, judging by the rocking sensation. I looked around to find the Slash and the Reaper gone. Wait…this thing must have hatches on the top….wait! How the heck did they get the Liger out?! We're floating on the lake, it's a land zoid! I did a scan of the lake bottom, just in case Rax wanted to go swimming in his zoid.

The scan picked up a few wrecks, a little crab zoid scuttling around, another Whale, a few dead bodies strapped to cement blocks, but no Slash Liger.

An hour of radar scans later I had the Whale floating over a canyon, watching the Reaper and Slash jump around a river. I set the thing to remote, and walked into the garage. Psy was asleep, more or less.

"Hey, Cyborg-Kitty, we're goin' down."

He got up and stretched, opening his hatch.

"…_**gr…"**_

I hopped in, opened the mouth ramp and we more or less dropped a thousand feet onto the Saix's paws. They always land on their feet.

"Hi chase!"

I watched a black Slash Liger bounce up to us, like a playful kitten. Then the Reaper appeared in a puff of smoke. Drama Queen.

"Chase, 'bout time you and your cat showed up."

I glared through the tinted hatch.

"…my name isn't…"

"…_**Chase…"**_

I hate when he finished my sentences…I picked up the control wheel and got into position for moving around. Psy took this as a sign to let me take command. Rax bounced again in his Slash, nodding toward the river.

"We're gonna follow this river."

Normally I'd point out we have maps, a Whale King, better means of traveling. But hey, I never did get to go hiking as a kid. It was your basic canyon-making river rapids. Curves every mile, rocks everywhere. Well, I ran the Saix up to the edge, hurdled to the other side and started jogging deeper into the trench. Rax did the same at a similar pace on the other side, Sue floated over the water with her cloaking on.

Well, for the sake of doing so Rax and I turned on cloaking, less paparazzi. I swapped around the screens in my cockpit to one that showed bright red figures moving beside me, heat-vision. Cuts right through cloaks, you can't mask heat. We set our voice systems to open range, and started a casual conversation as we swerved and sprinted around the river.

"…but can she adjust to the Juggernaut?"

Sue made a grunting sound.

"Clara's cleaned out the Sectors before, she could probably use that thing better than we can."

Rax asked why. I answered.

"Clara grew up using a Command Wolf, it should be second nature. I grew up with this exact Saix, Sue has switched around a lot, and you're a freak of nature."

"Oh."

I like how he accepts whatever answer we give him.

"…so is she going to, like, move in with us?"

Sue is a bit quick to the arrowhead.

"…she's living in that Molga right now."

Sue made a sound of recollection, she stayed with me in the Molga a few days. I remembered the little apartment in that thing, my first place in the real world. Sue then cut away.

"…she can park the thing in the Hanger and keep on living there."

…how does she think of this when she gets hammered every morning and night? We ran a bit farther up the canyon before we came switched subjects.

"…guys, the ZBC is pitting us against an S Class."

"WHAT?!"

I shrugged.

"…they want to see how we'd fair."

Rax sounded a bit anxious.

"…well, who are we up against?"

"…Lightning…Cisco, Taskers…all Saixes."

Sue sounded relieved.

"Great…heck, you have an evolved Saix, we're a shoe-in."

"Sue, it doesn't work like that…These guys are possibly better pilots than me. Heck, Max even."

Silence.

"…I'm serious. You ever see those patterns? They use formations to top their max speeds. I've never seen speedsters move that close."

Rax piped in.

"…I worked with Jack once. He's good."

….Rax worked with…never mind…

"…the Taskers are friends of my sister…they're insane."

I looked over at Sue's invisible zoid.

"…like, insane like we're insane, or Blitz Team insane?"

"…they can match moves perfectly…"

Great…we're up against Mister Lightning Saix and the Wonder Twins. I twisted left and hopped over the river, dodging the Liger in mid-air as we switched lanes. As I landed I let the blades loose. They were your basic blades, one long on each side, smalls ones peppering the body and sides. The ones on the Saix also lined the torso to look like stripes. A striped cheetah. Zoid Eve must be a blonde.

Well, I slashed a line into the wall with the left blade and folded them back up. I remembered the guns on this thing. They were hidden in the armor, just short to mid range powerhouses. Sadly, I have the aim of a drunk Rax. Sue actually aims better while boozed. I can't shoot for shit. I'm serious. I've worked on at least using the short range ones, but it'll be months before I can use the guns in a battle. Besides, I have blades.

We kept on about the Lightning Team.

"…those guys, together, can get speeds that none of the networks have measured."

Rax was curious.

"…so…they could be either slower or faster than Psy…"

"…not sure, actually…maybe I'll ask Zoid Eve for a blueprint."

"…_**um…Chase…she's the god of a planet, not a secretary."**_

"…what, like she's too high and mighty to just fax me some papers."

"…_**feminist…"**_

Sue laughed in triumph, I sighed.

"Great, great…well, it's possible the trio can out-do the Psycho Saix. But it's possible they're turtles."

"…_**I predict turtle stew at the after-hours party…"**_

"Psy, go get a comedy movie already, your remarks are falling flat."

"_**Will do."**_

Suddenly we found ourselves in open desert, we'd followed the river clean out of the canyon.

"…that was a short trip…"

I tapped my remote/watch, ordering the whale over to our location. I watched the gray Whale float up a few miles away. Was it possible to make it blend in, or possible cloak? Wait…what if I made a new transport? Well, not build one…more like get Eve to give ours a little motherly kick-in-the-ass-to-get-the-job-done-ness…But first things first.

"Hey guys, would you mind being stuck in a hotel for a few days while ithe Whale's in a crystal cocoon?"

"Sure, sounds fun."

"Can we rent movies before we do?"

"Yes. Rax, we'll get movies."

"Can Sue make cookies?"

"Sure, I've been meaning to experiment."

Wow, Sue didn't shoot the poor guy down.

"Can Trey show us those movies he has about zoids?"

My history programs?

"Sure, why not."

We started running toward the Whale as it lowered, a good few miles away still.

"Can I invite some girls over and…"

"Yes!"

"No!"

…you'd think I would be the one to say yes…but no, Sue had been asking every female how the surgery-affected portion of her body looked…I don't know if she likes girls in that way though, never bothered to ask. I hated the idea of our hotel room being the site for a beer-bash though. The papers compared us to rock stars enough as it is. I also hated the idea of waking up buried in female bodies. Dear god, I've been in that Hanger waaay too long…

Author's Notes

Well, I have good news for all of you. Not just the new transport zoid. I am upgrading my entire computer system. I've already started to gloss over my upgraded programs and web system, but now I'm getting new hardware. I've ordered a few new parts for my computer to replace the little parts that came with my Dell. Namely, a wireless keyboard with hundreds of programmable features, web control, a wireless optical mouse to replace my old corded one, and I've replaced my computer chair with a LA-Z Boy recliner. And an upgraded sound system. Why am I telling you this? My new, comfortable style of typing and working will let me give you a new chapter every three days instead of four. And I get to brag to my friends that my office rocks their socks. What? I used up my comedy on the golf course.


	29. Chapter 29

…our bar patron has been at his bar for six hours now…so has the rest of the patrons. Watching a screen with nothing on it but the occasional flash of color, a skeleton high in the sky doing nothing, and a three legged slash Liger on its side but not smoking. Next to it, were two downed Saixes. All three had gone down in one flash of impact. The Reaper was airborne, undamaged but apparently incapable of firing at the unseen remaining Saix. The two Tasker Saixes and liger went down four hours ago. It had been a two hour slash/miss fest. Then the Cisco Saix and the Psycho disappeared from human sight, now only visible as the occasional mirage. They've been going top speed for four hours, we're not sure who's winning or losing. The Reaper had no shot at hitting either, so it settled for floating above the invisible crossfire.

The Judge had gone into Sleep mode a while ago. An hour of nothing happening later it woke up and, to the bar's hatred, called it a draw due to time restrictions. A few minutes later both Saixes appeared, staring the other down as a Whale King approached from the West, a Gustav train from the East. The network focused on both of the speedsters. Dear…Eve…

…neither one had a scratch…not even the LS, even after facing the bladed evolution. The Psycho didn't even have a chip. As the Reaper, to everyone's interest, swooped down and grabbed the Slash Liger off he ground like a hawk. Both floated into their Whale but the two cats kept staring. Then both turned on a dime back to their teams.

The network, an hour of commercials later gave a slow-motion simulation of the two cats. Apparently they'd been striking and dodging for six hours straight. One thing for sure, it wasn't clear who was the aggressive one.

Well, I slept for twenty hours after the battle. After fixing the Slash of course. But still, that was our first battle that lasted more than ten minutes. That Cisco guy was good. As in better than me good. His Saix could move just as fast as mine could, and Psy is possibly an evolution. Psy was also crashed, he can get tired I guess. That guy was matching us move for move. Neither got a hit on the other, but he got closer than I did.

But this proved something. Whenever Psy and I got to high speeds, it wasn't him doing everything. That guy had an LS and he was just as fast. It wasn't the zoid. It wasn't Zoid Eve, even. It was me. Sue and Rax wondered why I tended to train eight hours a day, when Psy could do all the work. I honestly have to give Rax the best pilot in hat match, even between me and Jack. The sisters broke formation, probably against Jack's orders, to go after the Reaper and Rax. The Liger jumped in front of Sue and took them both down with a blade attack, but the impact knocked a leg right off. Rax didn't act any different after the battle. Gotta love that guy.

Sue was pissed at the fact she was useless. By the time I woke up she was out in a canyon working on speed-sniping. One of the reasons I got her with us, she always wants revenge. One thing none of us liked though. It was a draw. We don't mind losing, we just never lose. But a draw. What if Cisco and the Taskers want a rematch?

If they did, I had to double our training time, AND re-work a few zoid parts. I've been making plans to make the Reaper not just a floating skeleton, but modify the structure to let it fly traditionally, at much higher speeds. It was very tricky though. I wasn't confident enough to try it out yet. The Slash would need even thicker leg armor, it already had legs thicker than a Blade Liger, the hardest zoid in history to de-limb. As I thought about joint supports I was still in bed after waking up. I managed to pry myself out from the suddenly heavy sheets and change clothes, walking out for something to eat.

Sue, like I said, was out speed-sniping. Rax was sitting by his liger as its leg healed internally. I don't think the Slash can talk, but Rax seems o understand the growls pretty clearly. Sue could understand her zoid way back when it was a Geno, then a Snipe, then a resurrected Geno. I'm not sure if any other teams did this with their zoids. Psy was still in sleep mode, imagine the stress he took in those six hours. He was stretched out in place, his sharp blue eyes dull and his limbs extended to full length. I noticed his folded blades were intact, thank Eve. I'm a bit worried about his ego though, being matched by an LS after all.

I got ZBC Message about our class. We had only had two A Class battles before they had this sideshow battle happen. We had held out against an S Class Team. Barely, but still. Did you know they have a point system for ranking? We were climbing the charts. And they also had a set for individual pilots. We were in the top 100 so far. Lighting Team was in the top 10 easy. But I noticed in the last day I'd jumped twenty places. Must have been the Jack effect. Rax had gone up fifteen, Sue I couldn't find. I logged off the living room console and laid back on the couch. We were all wiped, even a day after the battle. To think they may be promoting us. Maybe I should use my ZBC connections to get us back into C Class.

After Sue got back at around sunset, she baked a cake to try and get us all a little sugar. It got us talking a little at least.

"…I changed a program in my zoid for increased snipe tracking."

I looked at Sue while chewing.

"Hm…pretty nice…I guess you'd be better suited to adjusting the long range programs."

She shrugged, admiring her new zoid-linked ring as we shared the cake, spread out in her a bit too spacious bedroom. Rax licked his chocolate-covered fork as we asked him about his Liger. He shrugged in a positive way. We were really starting to read each other well, must be the fact we live so close.

"Chase, how you doin' after your little boxing mach?"

I was too tired to correct her calling me Chase again. It was Max's name, not mine. He deserved it, I don't want it just because of my battle style.

"…gimme a few days of repetitive repair work and I'll be fine."

"…and your little weight lifting set…"

I glared, Sue smirked. She'd been using my gym almost as much as me, go figure, she works out.

"…Psy is still asleep, he's out of it."

My team-mates nodded. Soon, once again, we were talking about Clara.

"…if it's not going to hurt anything, I'm going to ask her."

Rax and I looked at Sue and shrugged, figuring it was worth a shot. Worse comes to worse we have a new training partner. We had slept out of schedule so we spent the night watching movies. Then when the sun came up we went downtown and saw six movies in the theater. You catching a trend here? I know I wasn't, I was still a tad out of touch, just a bit below my current mental state. More rented movies later we finally slept a few hours. That battle threw us off a good while.

But let me focus on the main event of this entry. I woke up from yet another nap to find Sue shaking me awake. She needed me to surface our Whale to the lake and fly over to the Public Hanger. We were picking up Clara, her Molga-Home, and her Liger. Call me crazy, but I think she said yes to joining. We spent an afternoon moving her in.

"….hey, Trey, could you rig in my Molga with your wireless system?"

Clara and I were getting her Molga settled in the Hanger. She chose to live in there, rather than switch to one of our rooms. She was the only person who called me 'Trey' nowadays.

"Sure, no problem."

I set down one of her clothing containers and walked over to the console at which I learned modern computing systems. I admit I like having my old temporary home around. As I searched for our signal from the Whale Clara asked about something Sue had said.

"…Sue said you may upgrade his transport…"

I shrugged and kept tapping panels.

"….evolve it, actually…"

"…wait…what?"

I realized she was a bit out of the loop.

"…um…I'm going to get the Whale to evolve."

I didn't know how o explain how, exactly…She spun me around by the shoulders to look me in the eye.

"….so you CAN evolve zoids…"

I blinked.

"…um, is it a rumor?"

She stared.

"…I've been wondering about you since your Saix changed…and then you started making…well, those zoids…"

I looked out the window at my prototypes decorating the Hanger. She kept talking.

"…You're not just a mechanic, you're some kind of magician…"

I stared. Um…magician?

"…I would love to explain all his to you…but um…"

I grabbed her by the arm and pulled her out of the worm and over a hundred yards to where Psy was sitting.

"Metal-head, make yourself useful and give Clara an update."

He moved his head up and nodded his cat-molded head.

"…_**sure, no problem…"**_

Clara looked at me.

"…are you a ventriloquist, too?"

Psy explained his being alive, as usual in a voice identical to mine, as I side-stepped away a few yards, then sprinted like hell back to the Molga to work on the console. By the time Clara walked in after me she looked like she'd just been given the secret of life.

"…um…your zoid is a nice guy…"

I closed a panel on her console and looked at her.

"…he has his moments…so, you want to run off screaming by now?"

This was basically, did she want to stay with Team Reckless?

"…put in some speakers in the Juggernaut and I'm in."

The ZBC gave us a week off, both from battles and my little projects, since that battle sparked some issues. Each day either Sue, Rax or myself got Clara used to her new battle zoid and getting her familiar with our strategies. Namely, just kick ass and get paid. She had me build a remote for the Wolf in the form of a necklace she wore. As I put the thing in, she stood behind my desk chatting.

She was wearing a fitness-looking jumpsuit, dark blue on both parts, her black hair pulled back in a tight ponytail. She resembled Riz slightly. Both had forward features, Clara just looked a bit less frail and more angled. I'd say she was dominant looking but she was too attractive for that.

Don't ask why I told you so much about her just now. It's just a mild crush, I figure it's because I've met so few females. I mean, between her, Sue, Riz and a few others she was the least dangerously flawed. And she works out more than Sue. I'm sorry, but a girl in a gym is somehow a good thing to me. Well, after implanting the voice remote into her pendant she went out for her first time alone in the Juggernaut.

She came back two days later with a wild look in her eyes, her hair loose and un-combed, and her clothes on the verge of falling apart. She had fallen in love with the Command Wolf Urban Assault and gone for a little trip to elope with it. Namely waving it in her family's face. They didn't like her joining our team. They weren't fans. Well, they just didn't like me since I punched out her uncle and stopped being their free grease monkey. And canceling Riz's bogus contract.

After her little wild trip she started acting like the rest of us. Zoid addicts with nice zoids. And a bit of a hard-to-handle attitude. We'd just converted a tame little Sectors pilot into a battle addict that would put Leena Toros herself to shame. Well, maybe not that crazy. But hey, Team Reckless was now a foursome of ass-kicking.

Author's Notes

Well, my new wireless desktop system came finally. I typed out most of this chapter on the couch while my better half and I watched a movie.She's okay with it, she gets a kick from watching me type fast with two fingers. This wireless thing will le me get to updtae more often, thankfully. I have a gigantic moniter on my desktop, both screen size and the fact it's the size of a microwave. Well, going wireless can let me rest my eyes and be a little comfortable. And of course save desk clutter. And what's with Trey and Clara? My girlfriend was sitting next to me while I wrote this, figure it out. Next chap will feature the media commenting on Reckless actually tying a match. Le this fic show my passion, I hate super-powered chars in fanfics, and in original fiction even.


	30. Chapter 30

"…so, there is a mini-bar, right?"

I shrugged as I pulled our suitcases down the carpeted hallway.

"Beats me, this is my first hotel."

Sue snorted to herself as I found her room and unlocked the door.

"Well, you'll know here is one if you don't see me until check out."

She grabbed her bags and locked herself in. I stared at her door for a moment before turning to look for my own room.

After I was settled in my decent-sized room I checked my organizer to see how things were going. Our main zoids were currently in a rented private hanger near the hotel. Our Whale King, according to Psy's report from Eve, would go into a giant cocoon tonight. So we cleared the hell out of there before we were trapped, booked a hotel and now we were in separate rooms watching the medium-grade entertainment channels.

I'll save you several pages of filler and cut to the blade. We were a hot topic in most bars and on most talk shows. Every talk show I found mentioned us at least once. One had a special going on how I could be Cicso's new rival.

Rival? They act like we're evenly matched. It was pure luck I didn't get cut down in the six hours we were sparring. And here was this fake blonde doing a monologue about my past. Apparently I'm Max's biological son. Or grandson. Or nephew. You'd think she'd notice we look nothing alike. Now a sports program debating who would have won the tied match. Fat guy with chili stains on shirt says Lightning, pale guy with bad hair piece says us. At least we chose to keep the Whale under the water, we'd have fans knocking on the mouth ramp day and night.

Speaking of our Whale, I have no clue what it's going to be like after the cocoon breaks away. I'll be honest with you, Whale Kings don't have a set evolution pattern. There are breeds, species, and mutations but no set path. Ours wasn't exactly very unique to begin with.

True, it was half the size of the usual whale, all dark gray, with standard green eyes. And the huge control room we never used was optional from the maker. Guy found this one somewhere. Speaking of our sponsor, we haven't seen him in a long while. He's been sending letter and payments, even a few personal notes but we haven't seen him in person. According to a guy in a bar his wife hates us. Why didn't we let Rax knock boots with her again?

I leaned back on the standard-size bed as I jotted down notes about our Whale. I spent an hour jotting before I fell asleep watching a movie. My team woke me up to get breakfast in the lobby with them, we signed a few napkins while we were down there. A few asked Clara for hers separately, she was a Sectors Contender. We haven't announced her joining us, so the fans figured this was just a coincidence.

A day of uneventful shopping later we were back in the hotel, the team in their rooms and me trying to find the vending machines in the maze of hallways. I was in my usual casual attire, faded gray jeans, black sleeveless and my hat/sunglasses on bill combo. I was barefoot, carrying my ice bucket in one hand as I looked down each branching hallway.

I heard the hum of a machine and walked toward it, turning a corner to see a row of machines. I sighed triumphantly before noticing some one in front of the snack vender waiting for their candy bar to drop. She had on a rather unusual outfit. An indigo leather jumpsuit, with the top cut down from below instead of at the neckline. Wait, I'd seen odd cleavage like that before…

Before I could run through my cleavage database she turned to look at me. Wait…she was one of the Taskers! The sisters from the Lighting Team!

"…Chase Brand…last person I'd expect to see looking for the machines…"

I blinked instinctively and stood up a bit straighter.

"Um…never been much of a drinker…"

The mini-bar was nothing but alcohol, annoyingly enough. To my surprise she nodded in agreement.

"…never met a good Saix pilot who drank…"

Can you blame us, really? I tried to remember which Tasker I was talking to…

"…I'm Chris Tasker, my sis and I ran into your Slash Liger the other day."

….crap…she remembered…I wondered if I should run the hell away without my precious sugar and caffeine when she picked up her candy bar from the drop chute and started unwrapping it in front of me.

"…You know you scared the hell out of Jack, right?"

…what…

"…pardon?"

She stared chewing the candy bar calmly.

"…well, we kept telling him you had an upgraded Saix…"

"…he was moving just as well as I was…"

She kept munching.

"…no kidding…we only told him that to keep his ego intact."

…wait…he felt the same way I did…

"…um, I'm guessing you could see me and him out there…"

She nodded.

"…yep, Saixes are easy to follow after a few years inside one."

I nervously stepped to the side, putting my bucket in the ice machine.

"…I got lucky…"

I pressed the ice button.

"…there's not gonna be a rematch, relax."

I sighed deeply. This girl could read minds.

"…hey, is Reckless sharing a room?"

I shook my head.

"No, why?"

She ordered another candy bar and a soda while my ice bucket topped off.

"Kelly and I are sick of talk shows, how about stopping by our room?"

…well, why wouldn't I accept? Thirty seconds later I was chatting with the Taskers about Psy and his acceleration patterns. Then, Kelly, I think, started an odd subject.

"…you don't battle much compared to some Teams…"

I shrugged, opening a soda. I was in a small wooden chair, the twins reclined on a couch.

"I takes a while to find a Team that accepts a match."

Both sisters shared a knowing look, I hate how twins do that. Chris asked the question this time.

"…you ever hear of party battles?"

No…?

"…is it a drinking game?"

Kelly looked at me with her face tilted.

"No, it's a special battle mode. Five or higher zoids on each team."

"…they have five-person teams?"

"…no, usually they have to call in friends or another team. Any number of zoids, as long as he number is equal on both sides."

…I'm staring to get the idea…Chris and Kelly looked at me expectantly.

"…you're asking if you guys get into one of those matches, could I get Team Reckless in on it…"

Kelly shook her head.

"…eh, we were just hoping for you, actually…"

…oh.

"…but that would be freakin' sweet if you did get your team on it."

…once again, oh. As I was about to ask the details there was a knock on their door. Kelly answered it to find Sue standing there. She knew the Taskers and had come for a visit. The she noticed me sitting in the corner.

"…why do you have my mechanic in your bedroom?"

The sisters shrugged in harmony.

"Just to chat about Saixes…"

Soon the Taskers broke their plan to Sue, who seemed interested.

"…three Saixes, Trey's Psycho Saix, my Reaper, Rax's Slash and the Juggernaut…"

….I swear to Eve I saw Kelly drooling…

We broke away to our own rooms later. I heard Jack was in his own room, he wasn't he kind of guy to share a room with a set of twins. Or they didn't let him, either way.

But I got an email, from who else by Psy. He learned to type. Attached was a blueprint of what our whale was going to look like within a few days. Well, an hour of my staring at it in awe later I showed it to Rax and Sue. Rax looked at the tiny sketch from an inch away.

"…that's a whale, right?"

Sue, reading one of my magazines, stretched out on my bed, answered.

"…it's an orca."

I looked up, eyebrow raised.

"…huh?"

She didn't bat an eye.

"…a Killer Whale."

"…oh."

Rax nodded, still staring at the screen of my organizer. I stared at the wall, trying to focus. A killer whale…pretty sure that's a new zoid…I didn't make it, but it does need a name.

"You guys okay with Killer Whale King?"

My co-pilots shrugged, they could care less. I figured it would work for now. Wait…we were going to be living in a new transport zoid…

Great, we may have to redecorate.

Author's Notes

Sorry for the short chapter. This little suburb I'm in on weekdays is in the middle of a crisis. And on top of all that I was sick as a dog all last night. There's a few people who in the last week have contarced the worst type of bacterial disease around. When I threw up ten times last night I was grateful it's just a stomach flu. So this quiet little town is going nuts. I'll edit this for typos later, i need some sleep.


	31. Chapter 31

"…um…Trey…"

"…um…yeah?"

We were all standing side by side, staring in the same direction.

"…catch me."

With that Clara promptly fainted, fell sideways as I caught her without looking. Then Rax fainted and Sue caught him. Why did two girls faint? Well, we were on the roof of the public hanger, looking at our Whale. We wanted to just check out how the cocoon was coming along. Well, the thing must have shed itself early.

…atop the huge drifts of blue powder, the cocoon residue, was a zoid a slight deal larger than our half-size whale king. It looked nothing like our old one. A Whale King is squared, blocky, and had straight lines. This thing was…smooth…like a picture I saw of a real, living whale I saw once. The head was defined now, the first quarter of its length featured a bulky yet dolphin-like head with a mouth full of tiny teeth. Wait, the head was half the size of a King! How did the mouth ramp even fit a zoid?

The formerly non-existent fins now stretched out on each side, pointing back to a realistic tail fin. Then I saw the color. Black, with white sections. This thing could pass as a giant, living killer whale. No bolt lines in it even. I set Clara down next to the others and walked a hundred yards closer. No bolt lines, all perfectly smooth metal. I then noticed the size again. It was bigger than our old one, nearly a full Whale King's length. The head, while perfectly realistic and defined, was large enough to house a hanger entrance.

As I walked toward the head to look for an entrance my team recovered and followed. I reached for my watch, a long while back I'd built the controls for this thing into it. I tapped the button to see if it was sill compatible. We watched the mouth widen as it lowered its jaw, we half expected it to make a whale noise.

…why am I stretching this out so much? Well, his is how it went, an hour of staring at it, twenty minutes to get the guts to finally walk into the thing's mouth. Insert six hours of getting lost, finding our quarters, etc etc yadda etc.

I'll cut to the next morning, save you a whole lot of boring filler. I open my eyes at seven sharp to see the sunrise glaring into my face. I was indoors. One wall of my room was now made of glass, currently looking out at the desert. Half my ceiling was also a skylight, our quarters had shifted to the very top of the transport. Sure, it was beautiful, but I like to sleep in sometimes.

I roll off my futon onto the now carpeted floor, and crawl over to my pile of clothes. I get dressed, walk up to my doorway to watch the single panel slide to the side automatically. This was like living in a cheap space ship. I'm now in a spacious, mansion level room that has a living room set in the corner. Our basic furniture looked out of place in all this modern stuff. The Kitchen had moved to its own room, it had gone from basic and square to round and stocked with appliances. Rax was still asleep, Sue was probably exploring.

This wasn't just the living quarters. The entire ship was high-tech, spacious and comfortable, even the sections we never use. Yesterday we'd seen maybe a quarter of the place, the Hanger and our living quarters. This was obviously a pet project from Zoid Eve, who knows what we'll find in the remaining 90. I walked a few hundred feet to our living room, sat down to take a rest. Geez, we're going to need roller skates eventually. As I remembered we'd lost the remote Sue dragged herself in from a hallway, looking ragged.

"…well, spent an hour walking around. Found some ancient artifacts, some Zoidian Mummies, and we have a pool."

"…how big a pool?"

She rolled her eyes and sat down next to me on he couch.

"Our Sponsor God filled this place with Zoidian decorations and stuff. Her face is plastered everywhere."

Rax appeared out of nowhere, sitting on the floor near us.

"…guys…I can't go to the bathroom…there's a weird face on the wall staring at me whenever I…"

Sue signaled for him to shut up.

"It's just a carving…it's not real. Trey, please get a sledge hammer, it creeps me out, too."

I sighed, getting up and walking toward a double-paneled doorway and entering a small closet. I tapped the wall.

"Hanger."

Ten seconds later the door opened and I was looking out at the mostly unchanged hanger I considered to be my sanctuary. Still steel, concrete, and unforgiving. Twice the size, sadly, but Eve knows to stay out of my life. Our home is now a giant casino inspired by her face, but she knows when to stop.

All the zoids were crouched on the floor, some twitching impatiently, some possibly in sleep mode. I scanned the row until I spotted my mutated Saix. He was on his side like a real cat, batting his paw at a sunshine spot. We had skylights in here now, a lot easier to see without just the fluorescent lights.

"…_**Chase, me' lad, how's the new place?"**_

…it was sad hearing my own voice fake an Irish accent.

"…your boss needs some decorating lessons…the outside is amazing, the inside makes us feel like Euro Trash."

He chuckled, then I noticed an odd thing. His mouth was moving. Usually he just said his thing through the speakers, now he was lip-synching. Not perfectly, but still.

"_**When I first saw this thing I thought it belonged in an aquarium. Now I think it should be in New Vegas."**_

I walked up to the zoid, tapping the glass cockpit with one hand.

"…open up, let's get out of here before your seat covers are mole-skin."

He rolled carefully onto his sleek stomach, opened his cockpit so I could jump in, snapped the hatch shut after me and hopped to his feet like a mountain lion. I always remember the first time I got in him, it's like the tables got turned. At first I had to jump start him and clean off the rust, now he only needs me so he doesn't get pulled over.

The mouth ramp lowered, we jumped off the hanger into the desert and were soon doing our usual drills. Namely running the long jump. As we were in the air for a few dozen seconds we stared a few short conversations.

"…_**so when's the next battle?"**_

I checked my organizer as we landed.

"Four days, give or take."

And take we did. Time flies in an extremely badly decorated mecha-mammal.

Our bar patron just go back from vacation. He thinks his wife's implants re-started their marriage, the shallow little idiot. But currently he's happily sitting on his stool, watching the usual screens before a battle. When the ZBC Network starts the line-up, everyone moves to the larger screen, it's a Reckless battle.

The ZBC does a huge segment on the new Reckless Whale king. Needless to say the bar loved it. They'd love Reckless if they were stuck in C Class, those zoids are half the show. Surprisingly all four zoids drop down. They admire the Command Wolf again as the focus switches to the other A Class Team. Four Blade Ligers, no wonder they're A Class. All painted black, pretty sure they were called the Ebony Blades.

It was a good old fashioned desert battle. Flat, no craters. Until the Judge made one. Then an odd thing, the judge didn't crawl out on its little platform. After a few seconds the camera flew over the pit to see a gigantic black sphere on top of some silver wreckage. The bar went silent. We all knew what this meant. Soon another Judge went down, this one black plated with red highlights. Yes, the battle had just been hijacked by Backdraft.

Instantly the ZBC started announcing action was to be taken, but the cameras kept rolling. Both Teams were stock-still as the Dark Judge announced battle mode 09999. The bar watched in silence as a Black Whale de-cloaked and launched out a small arsenal of zoids towards the eight ZBC pilots. The camera zoomed in, but couldn't get close. One got a close-up shot of one of the Backdraft zoids before it went to static. It was one of those new Ligers, the one Chase Brand made. Painted black and red.

One Day Later

"…and that's when the last one ran off?"

We nodded at the ZBC President. We were all in his office, Team Rckless and the Captain of Ebony Blades. I cleared my throat.

"…once again I'm sorry hey got their hands on my Liger design."

"Trey, this is what happens with any new zoid. Businesses invest, both legally and underground."

…well, we survived. Fifty of my ligers against us. The Slash Liger and Saix needed some blades replaced, but there was a bigger casualty. The wings and a back section of the Geno Reaper had been torn off by a swarm. The Urban Assault, strangely enough was the least touched. It kicked ass out there. I'd go into detail, Clara wants me to judging by her swagger, but back to the President conference.

"Sir, if there was a weakness…"

He quickly leaned up toward us from behind his desk.

"…those ligers don't have a blaring weakness…I designed them to not have any flaws…they don't have any real advantages, except for mass production…"

The President leaned back down, disappointed. I lowered my hat brim, feeling the same way. I'd made a new zoid for the Backdraft, how would you feel? We were telling the president himself this because we were witnesses to a Backdraft assault, and I was one of his go-to guys in weapon design now.

The Ebony Blades team had joined the fray also, half of their zoids were in critical condition now. Of course I repaired them, no upgrades, just enough to save them from dying. The Blades Team could talk to their zoids, I didn't want them to feel even more grief from what my new zoid did. I'm going through a little regret fling right now, don't mind me.

But most importantly, we still have all our zoids. I doubt hey could be, really. I'm not sure if the Reaper and Slash can move on their own, but Psy has confirmed they're somewhat alive. And…eh…how could you steal Psy? Let's say you did shoot me and get in his cockpit. You jerk the controls around, but nothing happens. Then he starts talking. Then a few hours later he drops you off at the insane asylum so you can lie down in your padded suite and mumble to yourself for a few years.

We parted ways with the Pres to head back home. My three co-pilots were watching movies in their pajamas to overcome the post trauma stress. I was stripped down to a pair of cutoffs in my workshop, strapping on blades, bolting joints, stripping dead paint, and every few moments running up to a console to jot down a sudden idea. By the time the zoids were in fighting condition my little idea chart had taken shape into a detailed sketch. Then a computer image. I was working on that little drawing and on our zoids for I'm guessing sixteen hours.

"…wake up, sleepy little psycho…"

I'd fallen asleep in Clara's Molga on a break. She was prodding me awake with her foot.

"…oh…eh…sorry…"

As I went to get up she pointed at the console near the kitchenette I'd been working at.

"…that little sketch you made…"

I stopped dead still.

"…you're one odd little guy…something bad happens, you fight it out, then shrink back to your workshop…"

She was giving me this look…Geez, her eyes were sharp. Hey, I didn't cower at least.

"…then you reveal this breakthrough you had…and redeem the situation…"

…so she liked the sketch…I sat up on her couch, then stood up quickly and walked toward the exit.

"…just a little idea I had…"

I regrouped in my own quarters, ordering up the sacred sketch on my own screen. I watched it load from top to bottom slowly. What was so special? A little primitive drawing of some curved lines connecting a bunch of little circles. I zoomed in to see they were wires, circuitry, general electronic systems. It was a series circuit design. Not following? I had made a concept hat a zoid could sustain heavy damage or even a few limbs, yet still operate in full battle command mode.

I've already sent it to the ZBC. The Backdraft's new Liger army would be met with a wave of zoids that could not be stopped. Hey, if you need to kill a monster, leave it to the idiot who made the damn thing.


	32. Chapter 32

I started screwing the top onto the steel box, the entire ZBC Presidential Cabinet standing behind me. We were in a glass-walled viewing room on a private Great Whale King. I was putting together a small steel machine in front of them, outside the window was a fleet of zoids ready to defend this craft at any extent.

As I silently finished off the last screw, an alarm went off throughout the Whale. Instantly we all looked out to see a wave of black-painted zoids incoming. Every one of them a Liger. My Liger.

I took out my watch, pressed a button to send a message and went back to watching through the window. I felt a tap on the shoulder, the President timidly asked me if I was going to use what I'd just made.

"…you mean this?"

As I said that my little machine beeped. I opened the front to reveal a bowl of popcorn. The Cabinet stared in confusion at my snack, then watched something pop up outside. A single zoid as running out to meet the Backdraft. A Gray Slash Liger, covered in graffiti.

"…that's…not…"

I looked over at the skinny guy who'd asked.

"…yep, that's Rax…"

Silence. They were all nervous. I just had nothing to talk about. Then the Liger reached the fleet. Instantly ten black zoids engulfed it, a blade snapped off in the mess. Then all ten of them were throw back into the horizon. The Slash shook itself off, now missing a blade but in good shape. Another wave, also shot off like a fly. The next wave took off three blades. This group flew even further.

"….Brand…what the heck is going on!"

I shrugged, swallowing a mouthful of popcorn.

"…it's a new circuit design. Every time he loses a blade or armor plate, the power routed to it goes to the rest of the zoid."

The politicians pretended to understand. The tiny Ligers kept throwing themselves onto my team mate, and getting trashed. Every time a blade or armor plate came off he got stronger. Soon the small army of Ligers were out of commission. I raised my wrist to my popcorn-stuffed face and talked into my watch.

"Nice goin', you can come back. I made popcorn."

A 'yahoo' sounded from my watch as I turned to the politicians.

"Well, that's the way it is. I rigged this circuit into the zoid design, let him loose, and just gave you a shy hundred Backdraft pilots into custody."

The President, currently a politician, not a friend of Max, nodded slightly.

"…you certainly covered your tracks…"

I shrugged, tilted my hat a bit down and responded.

"I left the diagram with your tech. If you excuse me, I owe our test pilot some popcorn."

With that I left the grand chamber with my bowl. What an odd way to open a journal, eh?

I'll cut the abstract situation to an hour later.

"…so you create a new zoid, it gets abused by an evil corporation, you redeem yourself with a fancy little drawing, and come out of it all with popcorn."

"….Sue, if you want some, just ask."

She grabbed a handful from my desk and left me to my room. Rax and I had gotten back from the Presidential whale King an hour ago, I'd fixed most of the Slash Liger's damage and was currently hunched over a screen typing away a letter.

'Dear Sir

I do hope that my new circuit design for your troops will cancel out my indirectly aiding the Backdraft. In fact I take metaphorical pen in hand to put closure on the matter. I want out. I never asked to get into politics. I'm a zoid pilot and a mechanic. The fact you called on me to aid you was flattering, but I wish to lay low. My fame as a pilot forces my team and I to avoid the media. My designs as a mechanic have promised me good funding, and I have created new ways to help our planet. But I am not a political advisor. You have a council devoted to your aid, you can call on any number of experts.

I will continue to make zoids, but only for ZBC Battle purposes, specific purpose, and for commercial design. I will not make killing machines. I have forbid myself and my team to use that circuit I demonstrated against the Backdraft, we will battle on equal ground. But I will not make military zoids capable of destroying cities. I am aware the rumors of a Liger Zero X have resurfaced and I am a reference on it. If a killer zoid does fall into the wrong hands, I will aid this planet however I can. But I shall not design zoids simply for the purpose of enforcing our military.

Sincerely

Trey Brand'

I sent the final draft to the President himself and went to the movies with my team. I am trying to break off from he big wigs, I want to go back to a normal life. And the Pres agreed. I'm a free man now. Why do you care? Well, we're back to zoid battles!

Let's try to get back into the flow of our lives here. Usual day, me in my little garage of horrors chatting with my Saix, Sue off on a rare mercenary job, Rax in his toy room.

"…_**what about the rib designs being molded with an air foil?"**_

I shook my head as I welded a blade mount onto Psy's back.

"The material is too light, I'd have to find a harder composite."

...we're debating how to rebuild the wings on the Reaper. I want to just put them back on like before, Psy wants to redesign them to allow the Reaper to _fly_, not hover. I bolted the blade mount a bit more and slid down to Psy's head, tapping the cockpit.

"Open up, I have to make sure the sensor wiring is intact."

I heard an electronic sigh as he opened the hatch for me.

"_**Chase, I can move on my own, is it necessary to have a top notch cockpit?"**_

I didn't respond. He may be alive, but I'm the one winning battles. Sure he remembers moves and attacks, but I was taught my Max Brand. Well, adopted, but he did kind of make me an expert pilot. I dropped down into my leather chair and fired up the holo-screens. I tapped away until I detected the blade mount, meaning I wired it right. Then I stuck around inside Psy's head, checking my email. Through the currently tinted glass I saw Rax walk into the garage. I leaned close to a speaker and cleared my throat.

"Rax, whatcha need?"

He jumped a bit at the voice ad looked at us, wondering if it was Psy or me talking. He probably forgot he was worrying and just went on.

"…what's my Liger's name?"

I shrugged and answered through the speaker.

"Slash Liger."

"…I mean its _name, _not its breed."

I blinked looking around, trying to wonder what he meant. He wondered if it had a name, like Psy did?

"Eh…"

"…_**his name is Sabre."**_

Rax nodded, thinking it was me who answered. He then skipped back to his toy room, at peace with the world.

"…Sabre?"

I felt my zoid shrug its shoulders.

"_**You never asked."**_

"…anything else I haven't asked?"

"_**Yeah, Ask clara to put on a robe when she walks around the Hanger."**_

I just stared.

"…why don't you ask her?"

"_**A giant metal cat says tells you to put some clothes on…"**_

He had a point.

"Hey, the ZBC hasn't given us a battle yet. Probably still in paperwork after the Backdraft attack."

"…_**as long as we're not in a Lightning rematch…"**_

"Yeah, last thing we need is another six hours with Cisco."

"_**And his Saix is a skank."**_

...moving on…zoids have genders…holy shit…

"…how about we find a zoid and rebuild it to kill time?"

Another shrug, he learned that from me.

"…_**we could find a Rev Raptor no problem, it'll be a trip down memory lane for Rax."**_

"Any ideas?"

"…_**Geno Reaper Lite…"**_

"…a zoid named after a new concept zoid, and a diet beer…I love it already."

As if my magic a blueprint screen popped up in front of me, blank but with an open toolbar a the side.

"…I'm not Royal Mechanic, but by Eve I love making zoids…"

Authors Notes

Can't be sorry enough for the late/short chapter…family problems, friend issues, a weight lifting deadline, and my cat won't let me sit down because my computer chair is to comfortable for me to enjoy. I'm back, so is the zoid making and battles, Regular updates will be back in no time, post your zoid ideas and reviews.


	33. Chapter 33

Eleven hours. A new zoid designed, built and perfected in eleven hours. How did I do it? Caffeine. Well, a diluted, solid form of it, but sugar pills are sugar pills. Onto the zoid.

We had found a Rev Raptor in literally twenty minutes. The guy was meaning to buy one of those Ligers anyway. It was new, great condition, hardly used, every used car pitch on the market. By the time we drove it back on the trailer we'd finished the blueprints. After we'd completely taken the thing apart Psy and myself had an argument over the shielding system. But we resolved and built the thing.

I wish some one would see it for the first time so I could just copy down that situation, but alas, I have to describe it myself. It's a skeleton. Happy?

I simply applied the Geno Reaper concept to a Rev Raptor. Strip it down, back it up with technology, make it look like bone, rinse, lather, redesign cockpit. I can honestly say I wish we had a better zoid to work with.

The spinal column/stubby tail is the same as on its older sibling. The skull is identical to a Geno's except a tad more streamlined. Gaping eyeholes, hatch hidden on the back of the skull, cameras instead of visual contact. I'm honestly not very impressed with my work for the first time. So we made a death-figure Rev Raptor. Why. It was expensive to modify, no major concept changes, it doesn't even have giant guns on it.

…then Rax saw it. He walked into the Hanger as I was on break. When I came back he was hugging the leg bone crying. The guy grew up in a Raptor, what's the big deal? I admit I cried when I saw Psy, but that's different, I'm a jackass who denies every flaw I have.

You know, I'll give you every missed detail on our new zoid when the time arises, here are larger fish tales to tell.

…the ZBC has sent me footage of the Liger Zero X. It is a major threat to the planet, and they're sending info about it to every source they can. I just wish they hadn't sent it while I was playing jump the canyon with Psy.

"…_**look at how it moves…"**_

We were watching footage of the black liger run around in the desert testing its new armor.

"It's a good design…moves like the Shadow Fox."

The speaker next to the screen cleared its throat.

"_**More like the Shadow Fox moves like a zoid Eve made."**_

He always sticks up for his boss. We were hunched over the edge of the canyon, motionless while watching he video, we'd gotten the footage during our jumps, and this was top priority.

"_**You see that?"**_

I hit the pause button and rewound it a few seconds.

"It nearly spun out…"

This state of the art Ultimate X clone, had problems on sharp turns.

"…_**it's the armor they made…should've stuck with the red one."**_

So the Backdraft made or found the red Liger Zero X, and made a black armor with lightning abilities to match their fleet. But it was holding their zoid back, like a tight sweater on a cheerleader.

"Does the standard Zero have that problem?"

"**_Pfft…Toros is a hack, those armors he made are just big guns and boosters."_**

"But the zoid works pretty well with them, most zoids can't work with a CAS."

"_**It's a smart zoid. But it still jerks around a bit."**_

"Probably the pilot…"

"_**Possibly."**_

We then watched the top-secret zoid shoot a bolt of lightning out of its paw at a rock.

"…they just modified the Strike Laser Claw…"

"_**...taking away its best close range ability."**_

Right as I opened my mouth two hidden blades deployed on the Liger's back.

"…and back comes the close range…"

Psy grunted through the speakers.

"_**That thing's a loaded pocket knife…"**_

I looked down at my shoe, which now had a small metal clip on the rim. The utility knife Max gave me for my birthday, the pocket knife crack made me remember it.

"Well, it's just another X in its Red Armor…"

The little black cat on the screen then ran away from the hidden camera, and disappeared into a cloaked hanger.

"**_Any ideas on who gets to pilot that thing?"_**

I shrugged, tapping my foot against Psy's floor.

"Stroller left a while back, he was the best. That one aerial chick wouldn't handle that thing. The Fumas don't do Ligers."

"_**How do you know?"**_

"…I met one waiting in line at the movies, good guys."

"_**Well, who the hell is in that monster?"**_

I tapped another screen and it went o a web window. I tapped my way through a few pilot archives.

"….what if they enter that thing in the ZBC? Like with the Fury?"

"…_**it'd be odd…I mean, why not just use it as a weapon?"**_

"…so they will eventually take on every good pilot on the planet? Take out their zoids, maybe 'accidentally' kill a pilot in a head shot?"

"…_**Sherlock Brand's on the trail…"**_

I found what I was looking for on a Royal Cup Gallery.

"…remember that prodigy they had in the fury? Real young kid?"

"_**Yeah, they're probably paying the kid in trading cards."**_

"…Vega…he took on the Blitz Team and nearly won…"

And he just got a shiny new zoid…

"_**Of course! The fans loved the kid, even though they hate the Backdraft."**_

"I hear he's a nice kid. Just a pawn of a criminal organization."

"…_**you start reading the dictionary again?"**_

"Indeed, my metallic feline replica."

After that we jogged back to the Killer Whale. Get this, it cloaks. I pulled back a lever and Psy flew onto the top of a canyon. We walked up to the center of the plateau, ran to the side, walked forward and disappeared into thin air. Sure it was decorated like a casino, but you had to love the privacy.

I let my zoid park itself, beats the valet Sue wanted to hire, and jumped out as he crouched down into sleep mode. I landed on my feet and jogged into the elevator. I entered our suite through the kitchen, getting myself a plate of fruit and bread rolls, and eventually navigated our mansion in the sky to my room. I hate this.

…I'm a blue collar. Always have been. Give me all the rich stuff you can, I'm not budging. Neither is my team. We'd be fine without the whole Zoid Eve stuff, maybe even without Guy as a sponsor. Speaking of Guy, he just left his current wife, two days later he's engaged to a retired female zoids pilot. Or pilotress. Gotta love big words. We just got us a whole new contract.

As I munched my fruit and carbs on my futon, watching a sitcom on my screen on the wall, I looked out my wall/huge ass window to see a zoid battle going on at the bottom of our canyon platform. I reached down, grabbed the edges of my bed and spun it around like a chair somehow so I could watch from the front row. I'm a zoids addict, no casino house will change that.

…first team…a bunch of Command Wolves. Next team…Cannon Tortoise, a blue Raynos, Dibison, Shield Liger with guns strapped on…Team Barrage!

The team that forfeited in the first battle with the Reaper. I watched the Judge call it, and then watched the four Wolves fall down in a line. Battle over. I didn't realize my mouth was open. It was the gun-toting Shield Liger. Six shots, bam, instant win. And I thought we were good. I remembered talking to him after our match, he was a mercenary hired o a lousy team. As Barrage left to their transport I hit the intercom button.

"Psy?"

"_**Yep?"**_

"…tell Eve I need a favor…"

"…_**the mercenary on Barrage needs a Blade Liger, got it."**_

He clicked out. Great minds think alike. So do foolish ones.

…why was I helping out that guy? Well, if he had a nicer zoid he'd win a bit more individual points, and maybe get hired to a better team. But why? I don't know. I'm not the charity type. I'm not greedy, I just don't pass out gifts. But for whatever reason, I just gave a guy a chance at the big time. I just shook it off and flipped my futon back to face the media screen.

The sitcom ended and gave way to a cartoon. It was composed of a historically accurate but toned down telling of Zoidian history. Basically, the Death Saurer doing its thing. This perception though, was exaggerated, big head, too short a tail. I'd seen hundreds of pictures of it. Heck, our Whale was decorated with Zoidian art, our guest room was a shrine to the thing. But I'd kill for a photo of it.

I even took out some paper and an ink projector and started drawing a little sketch of it. I'm not the best artist, it looked more like a cartoon rendering. As I gave it tiny devil horns and a pitchfork the intercom beeped.

"Yeah?"

"…_**Chase…eh...we have a problem…"**_

I sat up quickly.

"…_**the Juggernaut just popped into a cocoon. It's evolving."**_

"WHAT!"

"_**Same here. Eve didn't mention this. Dude, it may have done it on its own."**_

"…mother of…"

"…_**Eve better have a clue what it's turning ino."**_


	34. Chapter 34

"Has it started yet?"

"Rax, it went into its crystal yesterday, I think we're safe."

Well, we were currently examining the wolf-shaped cocoon. Well, more like sitting on top of it playing cards to kill time. Rax was getting impatient, Sue was getting tired of answering his question. I yawned and tossed down a three. Sue put down a five and Rax just slid off the cocoon onto the garage floor, bored of cards. Sue, Clara and I shrugged and split up his hand.

"…so, what has this thing done so far?"

Clara was asking about her crystal-furred zoid, that we were using as a card table. I pulled my cap brim up from poker face mode to guy in hat mode.

"3 increase in size, not sure where it is exactly. But the scan can tell the difference between crystal and metal, so we have a clear guess."

She nodded, Sue shuffled the deck.

"…you think people are going to wonder? An Ultimate X is usually gets in the papers. Then Rax's Blade evolved. And you built the Urban Assault and the Reaper. Then the Whale."

Sue kept listing every little quirk we had.

"…Sue, this is why we live underwater."

She looked up at the skylights of the hanger, currently showing several schools of fish flying by. We were hanging low for a while for a few reasons. First, the ZBC has been calling me a random for ideas on the Zero X. They keep asking my opinion on how it moves, its weaponry, and its possible technology.

"How about we do something else after next game?"

Clara and I agreed with Sue's idea and kept playing. Psy was pacing back and forth on one side of the hanger. He hates it when we're down here so long, he runs out of movies.

"…_**guys, can't there be a huge update on Negative Zero or something?"**_

'Negative Zero' is the code name the ZBC is giving this Liger Zero X affair. I sighed and called back over to my zoid.

"Psy, they already did a check on that Vega kid. They got footage of him in the city near where they saw the Liger."

He stopped dead in his racks and creaked his head over to look at us.

"…_**what kinda footage?"**_

Well, two games of cards later I hopped into his cockpit and ordered up the file. I fell back into my leather chair as it loaded, I always thought this cockpit was like a cozy little cabin in the woods. When it loaded I just hit play and leaned back, having seen it before.

The footage was from a photo sniper on a nearby building. The setting, the central park. Kids playing, joggers, dogs running around catching Frisbees. And they had a ZBC guy in camoflauge get it all on tape. The camera zoomed in on a very diabolical sight in the middle of all the happiness. A woman and a young boy having a picnic.

"…_**that ain't him…"**_

"Look closer."

True, it didn't look like Vega at first glance. But after another zoom the face stood out like neon. His hair was slicked back, and he had on civilian clothes, but it was him. The focus then switched over to the brunette woman unpacking their basket.

"_**That his mom?"**_

"Um…Psy, he's an orphan supposedly. That woman there is still a mystery, obviously his guardian, but who the heck is she."

The footage played the mystery guardian laughing at one of Vega's jokes, which we didn't hear. Sadly there was no sound.

"…_**I've seen her before…she's Backdraft alright, her sketch came up after an attack, she was in a Geno."**_

"…hm…"

"…_**it was a Geno they got out of the Ruins."**_

Crap…the Backdraft had access to that powerful a zoid?

"So she's a pilot. Think she trained the kid?"

"**_That would explain how close they are…I mean, Max taught you and you're pretty much his son"_**

"…"

"…_**it's true."**_

He was comparing this mystery woman and Vega to me and Max. Note to self, rewire Psy.

The video went on to them eating their sandwiches. Then she brought out a Frisbee and stood up. It looked like she was lecturing him…what, some new pilot technique?

"_**Awww…she's teaching him how to throw a Frisbee."**_

…awww indeed…you had to admit that was nice.

We watched the pilot of a possible killing machine laugh, play and be a kid.

Then they packed up and left, putting their garbage in a trash bin. They didn't even litter, the murderous bastards.

"…**_so we have to analyze this kid so we can take him down…"_**

"Sad, ain't it…"

I reached up and opened the cockpit to get out.

"…_**so are you allowed to go near this kid?"**_

"…they didn't say, why?"

…I quickly sat back down.

"…great minds think alike…"

Two Hours Later

…so this was a video arcade…a bunch of kids playing zoid simulators. Popping in quarters every time they died. I was in my leather jacket, hat and sunglass combo to avoid being recognized by fans. Even though this was my exact pilot outfit.

I watched some kids pilot pre-made virtual zoids into fake looking battlefields and blow each other up. I stopped when I saw something odd. This in the corner kid had been at it for a while and hadn't gone down once. He was sitting in the seat pounding buttons quietly, relaxed. When he turned to pick up his soda from the arm rest I saw a young, pale face framed by scruffy black hair. Bingo.

I looked at the screen he was using. He was playing a standard purple Geno, and blowing the crap out of everyone else in the arcade. Call me crazy, but I don't think I would have lasted in one of these games with that kid. Let alone a real battle. Hey, I know my limits.

I stood a bit behind him for a while until his single quarter time limit ran out. He sighed, sounding bored and turned around and jumped a bit when he saw me.

"Oh! Sorry, were you waiting for he chair?"

I kept my act up, I was acting like your average young adult gamer. I just looked aloof and shrugged at the little guy.

"Nah, I just like watching kids do this."

He suddenly broke into a bit of a smile.

"…how did I do?"

I looked under my hat brim at him, trying not to look fascinated. He was…a kid.

"…well, better than the rest of these guys…you looked bored though"

He shrugged a bit, picking up his soda.

"I'm used to arcades with better people."

No kidding. I looked at the blank screen he'd been using.

"Hm…I may try to get in a round…they got a Lightning Saix in this game?"

He shook his head.

"Nah, this old version stinks."

Weird, I'd say sucks, this kid was being polite. I kept up my act.

"Well, good thing they have Genos, looks like you were born in one, huh kid?"

He broke into a smirk, then suddenly went blank, as if remembering something.

"Eh…heh, yeah, I use it a lot in here."

I turned to the exit slightly.

"Well, I should get going, I have some zoids to fix."

My last resort. Revealing I was part of the zoids world. In a second he was following me out the door, the z-word driving him into a frenzy.

"You fix zoids!"

I smiled down at the kid.

"Yep, even made a couple."

Soon I was walking down the sidewalk, him next to me asking questions, which I of course answered. He was a zoids addict all right, takes one to know one. By the time I was halfway to where Psy was parked the kid had gone quiet, like he was thinking.

"…you ever do anything with rare zoids?"

I stopped and nodded slightly, being honest.

"A few…why? You have a Mad Thunder that needs new brakes?"

He didn't laugh. He looked serious.

"…could you fix a zoid that isn't out in the open?"

…what was he getting at…

"Sure, I could wing it."

He started turning to the left and walking away.

"Come with me!"

I stood there blinking as he broke into a run, then broke out sprinting, quickly catching up with him and keeping pace as he went three blocks over to a plain looking building, ran in, with me in tow, and into the elevator in the doorway. I watched him pant as the door closed.

"…somebody chasing you, kid?"

He looked up at me with these deer eyes and just nodded. I nodded back and watched the numbers go by on the dial. Odd, we were going down instead of up. As I went to ask the door opened o reveal a bare hallway. He jogged out, of course I followed, until it broke off into a large warehouse under the street.

As he turned on a light I stopped dead in my tracks. The lights popped on, revealing a large zoid in the center of the room. What appeared to be a silver Geno Saurer variation with large, skeletal claws protruding from the back. The Fury…as I stared Vega ran up to me and breathed deeply, poor kid was going nuts.

"…look at it."

I was about to asky why when I saw it. Burns. Scrapes. At first glance the zoid was beautiful. But the whole front chest section has been bashed in. One leg was busted, he tail keeping it balanced. And the claws were on the verge of breaking off.

"…it got broken against the Zero Liger…the Backdraft told me they wouldn't fix I cause I lost."

I looked down to see the kid was crying a bit. His zoid…was hurt, and he wanted it to be better. I just stared, not sure what to say. So, fix a killing machine that was taken out as a safety precaution, just to make one kid stop crying? I looked up at the battered silver beast. It sat there, as if displaying its wounds without feeling. I looked back at its young owner.

"…I'm gonna need some tools…"


	35. Chapter 35

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Zoids, but I do own the concept of this story and my original chars. I also don't own James Bond, as I make a reference to him once.

You ever have a gun pressed right against the back of your head? After the initial panic it's kinda nice, like a head rest.

"What was your name again?"

I was currently face down on the concrete, Vega's mystery guardian had come back and found me screwing something onto the Fury. Two seconds later, here I was at gunpoint.

"…it's Trey."

The barrel pressed harder.

"Last name…"

She had an odd voice, soothing, yet when you thought about what she was saying it made you want to crap yourself..

"Brand."

There was a little stretch of silence.

"…you're the new Chase Brand?"

So she read the media logs, how nice. Now back to me being her bitch.

"Yep, that's me. I was at the arcade, met Vega over there, he asked me to fix a zoid, and led me here."

"He's telling the truth, Sarah!"

And the kid was on my side, great. But she kept grilling.

"…didn't you make those zoids for the ZBC?"

I shrugged, a bit hard to do when spread out with your nose pressed against cement.

"It's a living."

I felt the little circle of metal pull away.

"Get up."

I stretched and stood up, turning to look at the scene. We were next to the Fury's left leg. His guardian, wearing a dark jacket and pants, wearing her dark brown hair down to her shoulders, was still pointing the handgun at me.

"…you know who we are."

Her tan face looked like a protective grizzly bear.

"…no, he just told me his name."

"Vega here is telling everyone he meets his name is Keith. We're laying low."

Crap. I reached down and grabbed my hat, it fell off in the struggle.

"Um…"

Vega looked worried, dancing on his toes a bit.

"Sarah, he said he knew how to fix the Fury!"

His guardian stared at him, then looked at me and relaxed her grip on the gun.

"…is this true?"

I nodded slowly, how could I not? She finally holstered the gun in a strap under her jacket and relaxed her posture. Hopefully she forgot I knew Vega's name.

"…well, you may want to know our situation…"

Ten minutes later we were sitting in a bare office attached to their underground warehouse, I was sitting on a box, she at a small desk, Vega still with his zoid.

"…and as you know, Vega is a bit of a good pilot."

I rolled my eyes.

"He's the King…"

She smiled warmly and kept on.

"Well, after the Royal Cup, the Backdraft came down on us. They wouldn't fix his zoid. Vega, for some reason, is emotionally attached to that thing."

I nodded and swung my feet on the edge of the crate.

"The best pilots are."

"They gave us this space to lay low. I've been trying to get us this deal for years, I want Vega to have a childhood. But here's no way for me to get out of the Backdraft, let alone their best pilot."

I looked at her a bit closely under the bare bulb in the office.

"…you mean…neither of you are loyal to those guys."

She shook her head, swinging her hair at me.

"No. But back to the details. They're storing the Fury here nowhere close to our apartment, Vega keeps coming here to visit it. He talks to it. The Backdraft 'punished' him for the Cup by not fixing that thing, Vega seems to be feeling its pain."

I kept nodding like a bobblehead. Now, time to get some real goods.

"…so he currently isn't doing any pilot work…"

She gave a blank look.

"…actually he's doing tests for a prototype of theirs."

Bingo.

"I see….well, Vega showed me the tools they have down here. A wrench and a butter knife. Would your boss know if this thing was moved?"

She narrowed her eyes.

"…no, they more or less gave up on the Berserk Fury, all the focus is on the new prototype."

This gets better and better. They should get me to play the next James Bond, actually the 234th movie comes out next week.

"…if you can move it out into the desert my Whale could pick it up, we have cloaking technology."

She got up from her small desk chair and started toward the warehouse to check on Vega. I followed, still talking.

"My workshop has the supplies to work with an unusual zoid. I usually build or upgrade zoids, but a major repair job should be easy."

We walked up to the scarred Geno-type zoid, Vega was sitting on the head, chatting away with it. Sarah smiled at this and called up to him.

"Vega! Your friend from the arcade says he'll help Fury get better, but we have to get him to Trey's house. We need o get out to the desert."

Without a word Vega hopped into a hatch into the Fury's head. Then the jets fired up and it disappeared, a small glowing flash going down a tunnel in the wall. I had just noticed the tunnel heading eastward, so that's how the zoid go in here.

…wow, that Geno is pretty fast…note to self, steal technology from it.

Sarah led me to the elevator, then I led her a few blocks to a parking hanger.

"…that's your zoid?"

She as staring open-mouthed at the Psycho Saix, crouched down as I hopped into it.

"…nice, ain't she?"

I felt the seat shake a bit as Psy bristled. Sarah got into the cockpit behind me and closed the hatch. Five seconds later we were in the desert, going about 500 toward the signal Vega was sending from the Fury. I heard a groan behind me.

"…I hate fast zoids…"

Thankfully she didn't puke over the seat covers. I hit the brake when the silver dinosaur appeared on the horizon. As we jogged up to the elegant but damaged Ultimate X I signaled the Whale. By the time we were next to Vega my sensor was picking up a cloaked transport incoming.

I'll cut their tour of our Killer Whale and the introductions. On to the important stuff.

I fixed the Fury. Took me two days straight but I got the systems up and running, rewired the damaged parts, even went as far as to restore the battle systems. But let me cut to the Chase. This is an amazing zoid. I found out from Sarah that in the Cup the Fury lost its head armor and both claws, well, apparently it had either regenerated or reattached its claws. The head armor probably grew back. How, I'm not sure.

But the not so major damage, to the living zoid at least, was healing slowly. Namely the outer armor scuffs, chest damage, and limb twisting. At first it was a bitch to even find the damage. Then when I checked it over the damage had shifted into my line of sight. Call me crazy, but it was like this zoid had to trust me before I could fix it.

I used to think they called it an X because of its speed, firepower and close range combat. But I think it's alive. Mute, but it seems to have personality. And as for the firepower, I'd kill Vega in his sleep to have this zoid. I did some testing on its speed capability, this thing is just half a notch below Psy going downhill. The maneuverability? These claws can let it do a handstand if needed. The guns? It's a Geno Saurer on steroids. And to top it off I can't find a blaring weakness like most other zoids.

I mean, I admit right now, he Psycho Saix doesn't fare well against other speedsters, I have to pilot around that. But this thing…I can't find a dent. No launch angles left open. No armor weak spots. Not even a long charge time for the CPC. How, in the Arctic Hell, did that Bit Cloud guy take this thing out? It ain't his piloting. Vega is obviously one of the best. I hear he fought this thing without the Panzer armor even.

Psy kept bragging on that one. He keeps saying the Liger Zero armors are handicapping the thing. I kind of agree. That Toros guy just slapped on some boosters and guns, and on top of all that it was a gimmick. If the Zero could take out the fury, in its white armor, what if the Liger Zero X is weaker because of the Lightning Armor?

I thought all this up after hours of inhaling grease fumes and cockpit polish. I also invented a superhuman persona, but this stuff sounded important. After I gained some independent thought, saw the job was finished and the stuff was mostly out of my system I trudged into our quarters to see Sarah and Sue chatting at the table, Rax and Vega playing in the toy room, Clara was in her Molga waiting for her zoid to leave that cocoon, it's been in there four days now. One long evolution.

After wandering around in a fume-induced daze I ended up in my room, watching fish swim by our underwater home/insane asylum. I just sprawled out on my couch, drenched in sweat from the last two days, waiting for my mind to stop racing. As I'm writing this I'm still in a daze. I've been thinking about where my path has been taking me.

Let's see, bad childhood, abused by parents, saved old zoid from being demolished, get ditched by my only parent figure on the planet. Peachy. I found out I'm a workaholic/skilled mechanic. I have to struggle to adjust to this way of life, when my zoid gets burned to a crisp. Right when I'm about to kill myself, surprise, it just evolved into a super talking speed machine. Then we get stuck in the freakshow battles.

I find out my life is being orchestrated by Zoid Eve, whom I never really believed in, let alone worshipped. She gives me good luck, a sponsor, money, amazing zoids, but does she ever apologize for my childhood? Or is she a part-time goddess who just deals with zoids, not little kids being whipped by their parents every night for no reason. Did she ever come out and talk to me? Instead of relaying files through Psy?

I've done everything she's told me to do. What do I get for it? I haven't seen Max in months, I spend my life hoping to live with him in peace someday and it gets pushed aside for this celebrity freakshow. Sure I have friends, I have a home and money, but in exchange I can't live the real life. Upgrade a zoid for the ZBC, give them info about some prototype weapon, fight the rare battle that the ZBC manages to give out, and deal with the constant zoid evolutions.

Why repair or manage a zoid when you know it may change the next week? I put my sweat and blood into that Command Wolf, and now it's just going to turn into one of Eve's freak zoids. I can't handle this. I'm not some puppet anymore. I'm Trey Brand. Not Chase, I'm not even really a Brand. Who am I.

Much Needed Author's notes

…in case you didn't pick up, Trey has gone nuts. Not all the way, really.. You see, two sleepless days of working on a zoid nonstop got to his head. He started thinking about things he usually blocks out. Notice as his journals went on he stopped mentioning a few things. Things he wanted to forget. Zoid Eve has been running the show, some of you may have predicted. Trey isn't stupid, he just doesn't want to know a few things. This isn't some last minute character change. I've had this going since this story flashed into my train of thought. No, he's not going insane. He'll recover soon enough and explain a few things. They'll be back into battles soon, the ZBC has been too wrapped up with the Liger Zero X to schedule any battles. Things will be back to normal soon enough, but things are going to hit some deep points.


	36. Chapter 36

DISCLAIMER: If it was copyrighted by anyone but me, I don't own it. But if it's new and original in this story, it's mine. Comprende? If not, I'm legally allowed to break your fingers.

"_**Bzzzz…"**_

Gr…

"_**Bzzzz…"**_

What time was it…what the heck was that noise?

I pried open my eyes to see a zoid cockpit spread out before me, with a blinking light emitting the offending noise. I reached over and jabbed it, stopping the buzzing. I checked the label to see it meant battery charged. Wait, where the heck was I? I looked out the cockpit to see rock walls, I was in a canyon. I was dressed in the same clothes as yesterday. But I wasn't in Psy…

I pried open the hatch and poked my head out into the humid desert air. I saw I was actually in the Liger Prototype. The blue back was a bit dusty, like it'd been out here a while. I popped back into the cockpit and checked the clock on the console. I remember working on the Fury…my room…Vega, Sarah…Zoid Eve…Eve…

"…so that's what happened…"

I slumped back against the seat and started thinking. I must have blacked out during my little episode. Just hopped into a zoid and took off. The clock said it was the morning after, I must have just ran off here and fell asleep. I wasn't wearing my hat, I must have really been out of it. I tilted my head down to see my shirt darkened with dry sweat. I leaned my head over to see the air conditioner unit working fine. It wasn't the heat that got me sweating. I exhaled and kept trying to recollect as I reclined the seat back, staring through the cockpit at a blue sky framed by red rock.

I wondered where my team was, had they gone back under the lake or were they still at the public hanger? I reached out my hand to the console, not taking my eyes off the framed sky. Right as I was about to hit the com-button I felt something grab my hand. I pulled back and my head shot forward. There was a woman sitting cross legged on the console in front of me. How the heck…

The first thing I noticed was her skin. Dark. Not like suntan dark, like brown dark. Her features were…different. Rounded slightly, to accentuate her eyes and mouth. I'd give a body description, but she was wearing a shapeless white outfit that I honestly couldn't put a name too. Then back to her face. She was calmly gazing at me, not noticing my fear and surprise. She retracted the hand she'd grabbed me with and assumed a meditation stance.

"About time you woke up…"

…and a voice like the wind through a tunnel.

"…who…the hell are you? How did you get in here?"

She slowly blinked, showing she wasn't in a hurry to answer.

"Gee, Trey. You made this thing, you should know how to get in one."

I pulled back into the seat even further, trying to get some room between me and her.

"…how do you…"

She didn't let me finish.

"I wish I could say we've met, but we do know each other."

I stopped tensing, trying to remain calm. I lowered my arms to the side and stared at her, seated in a way so I could fight her off if I had to.

"…I'm not following…"

Instead of knowing she'd been had and pulling out a gun, she just smiled.

"…just call me Eve."

I froze. Not that I was moving in the first place, but if I tried I couldn't. I just breathed a bit deeply, staring her down. This was…she said she was…

"…calm down Trey…"

Instantly I felt this wave of calm go through me. But I wasn't calm, it just forced itself on me…

"…um…eh…"

She stretched out her dark legs in front of her and stood up in front of my seat.

"…meet me outside when you come to your senses."

Then she was gone. I didn't mean she went up through the hatch, I mean she just disappeared without a trace, leaving me to sit there and sweat. I stared at the console she'd been sitting on. Somehow I got control of myself, reached up and stepped out onto the top of the zoid. I felt the wind blow by as I stood there. I looked down to see the white clothed woman standing down by the canyon wall, waiting. I hopped down, just as I had off Psy the day I left the desert, onto the floor. I turned and walked over to her, slowly, without a sound. She watched me approach and started walking the length of the wall.

"Come with me. I always prefer to talk business while walking."

I did as she said and walked by her side without a word. She strolled slowly along, also silent. God, this was so freakin' scary…

"…first agenda…I'm not in charge of the entire freakin' universe…"

I nod quietly. She keeps talking.

"…I could be considered a Goddess, somehow. But I'm only in charge of one subject. Zoids. I created them to help the people of this planet. Then the wave from Earth came, and discovered the ancient zoids, learned to recreate them and I was back on the job."

…this was the history of zoids…?

"I made a mistake by even making the first zoid. When the Zoidans made their own it got worse."

The Death Saurer…

"But now you Earthers with too much time on your hands claim I'm God."

I finally spoke up.

"…wait…say that again?"

She answered without looking at me, we never made eye contact during the walk.

"…I was created along with everything else. I'm not the Creator. I'm not sure who is, exactly. I popped up along with this planet, same as dirt, water and energy."

…so those churches in her image were a bit off.

"At first all I knew was I could create these animals that helped people. Then the people used technology to make it easier on me."

…sounds realistic enough…we crossed a corner and soon we were walking the length of a slow river.

"…I'm a creator, but I'm no artist. I just let the people come up with ideas and give life to them."

"…so you just gave reality to their dreams…"

She nodded at the horizon in front of us.

"I admit. On my own I don't have a creative bone in my body."

I stopped in my tracks, she kept walking.

"…wait! You're saying you never…"

I jogged to catch up with her again, she had kept walking.

"…well, for a while I accepted this and let you Earthers make your own zoids and enjoy the planet. Then that war started and you used what I gave life to, against each other. I intervened indirectly. I was laying low, didn't want to distort the culture you brought from Earth. I helped those who would fight for the good of their people, not the tyrants who wanted to use old weapons to control new victims."

The Big War…Van…Fiona…Raven…

"…those organoids as you called them were my messengers."

I figured…

"Thankfully my work paid off, and the ZBC was formed. I admit, my zoids do love to play with each other."

"...an odd way to describe battling…"

She ignored my comment and went on.

"Well, now there's another party that wants to harm others."

The Backdraft…

"…therefore I am intervening."

"…how?"

We had finally reached the mouth of the canyon, now facing open desert. She stopped walking and turned to me.

"…for starters, I needed some one who could create…some one proven to be a survivor. I also needed other special individuals for other purposes."

So she was only cluing me in on this Creator guy.

"…one day in my travels I came upon an odd scene. A boy who was the ideal for what I needed. A survivor. Who had gone through a childhood of pain with no hope and had gone through. A creator. He wasn't aware yet but he saw things that others needed years of research to notice. This gift allowed him to find a mentor, a retired zoid pilot. This man, combined with the boy's own vision, taught him everything to know about my creations.

"As a bonus it gave him the ability to harness the power of one like one of the best. And his feelings for the party of greed…the Backdraft Corporation brought shame to his family name, and years of pain to his body. Zoids helped mend both of these, creating an unbreakable bond. And teaching him above all else, who the real enemy is."

She took a shallow breath and kept on. I was still blank to what she was talking about. But when she mentioned pain I felt the old scars on my back burn slightly.

"I found the boy in an old, dying cat that was running to avoid its own destruction. Yet it was kept going by the boy's hope. This ambition was what guided me to him. By the time he had finished watching the sun rise I had arranged for him to go through a chain of events that would leave him in a position that would make him secure enough to follow his own path."

…how did she know Max used that path line a lot? By now I had picked up it was me, but I hadn't reacted to it yet.

"At first he just became a master pilot. But his true skills were shown and he began perfecting his trade."

Making zoids…

"…soon I began contacting him directly. By dropping hints that he on his own accord followed."

The Liger Zero X…she was the one who got me into that mess.

"…Trey, you are a creator. I just give life to what you make. I give life to every zoid that is made capable of living. Including the ones made by the Backdraft due to the power of my own vow. But by giving you the opportunity to be heard, I have given the side of good an asset that can combat those of greed."

…I was starting to catch on, in my own simple way. As she opened her mouth to keep going I raised my hand for her to stop.

"…I get it…but a few questions before we cut this short."

She nodded, it felt weird to demand something from a goddess.

"…why did you make Psy the way he is?"

She blinked slowly again.

"…that isn't connected to you, actually…it was of his own saga. He was cut down by a zoid that shouldn't have done so. The Psycho Geno Saurer, used by a man of greed. Since the Saix was alive deep down, he felt the pain for years on end. Being cut down by some one with no honor. He would never be able to function again. Yet his very core demanded the chance to get revenge and continue life. The fact you were piloting him when I met you was pure chance. When I sought ways to help you I stumbled upon his spirit. I granted him new life, and a body that he specified for a very strict purpose."

"…you mean he has a reason for being the way he is?"

"…he is a perfect counter to the zoid that killed him…"

The Psycho Geno…and the Saix…the ying and yang.

"…the fact your two fates merged was an odd one for me, also. I do not control fate, just can nudge things around in my favor. Changing the traffic conditions, causing a stray Molga to change course for example."

My first day out…I thought this over, looking at my feet, looking into her eyes was too extreme for me.

"…only recently was I aware my interference had a negative affect on you."

I looked up to see she was looking at me…like a girl who had missed a date?

"…I should have revealed this earlier on…"

I nodded, agreeing. I was still a bit nervous, the presence of a god and all.

"…but there is one thing that went a bit better than I planned. Your Liger."

She pointed at the path we'd taken in the canyon.

"…you created a way for millions of those suffering to find jobs, money, ways to do things that have to be done…I didn't make that happen, you did."

I blushed, of course. I outdid Zoid Eve. Drinks on me.

"…well…thank you…for everything…but what now?"

She turned back to the blank horizon.

"…you're going to wake up in your room, realizing this is all just a way of me speaking to you. And you're going to continue helping those who need it."

I scratched my neck.

"…you mean Team Reckless, the ZBC, Max, the people on Zi….Vega?"

She shrugged, still looking at the flat desert and endless sky.

"All of the above. Sorry to bring this up, but your alarm clock just went off."

"_**Bzzzzzz…"**_

The canyon, the desert, and the sky were now the glass ceiling of my room, my skylight showing grey clouds, and my alarm clock.

I sat up to find myself dressed just as I had been in the canyon. I tapped the alarm clock to quiet it and stared at my bedding, just thinking. Not wondering if it was a dream, it had been all too real. In fact my shoes had faint red dirt on them when I bent down to tie them later. When I got the power to stand up and walk out I wasn't sure what to expect. I walked out into our huge living area and scanned around slowly, waiting for something to pop out.

All that awaited me were to sleeping forms in the living room area. Vega, covered with some spare blankets on the couch, Sarah dozing lightly in the chair nearby, ever protective of him. I silently crept over to the elevator and went down to the garage. I walked out among our zoids and my creations. The blue Liger. The Reaper. The ZBC modifications I'd made. The still-cocooned Urban Assault. And then the Psycho Saix. He was stretched out on the floor, in sleep mode. I walked over and cleared my throat.

"…hey, you up?"

Suddenly he jumped up onto his legs, looking around as if frightened.

"_**GAH….whoa…scary…"**_

I raised an eyebrow.

"Did I surprise you?"

He shook his head sleepily.

"_**I had this nightmare."**_

I felt my jaw drop.

"…what?"

"…_**I dreamt about the future…everyone was stupid…the zoids battles were crap, and the only way to win was to hook up with another zoid in a really crappy looking formation and just call out some lame attack. Geez, I thought it was real…thanks for waking me."**_

I just stared.

"…yep, that's pretty damn scary."

Author's Notes

...um...what is there to say? I dislike Zoids Fuzors?


	37. Chapter 37

DISCLAIMER: I don't own zoids, or any mainstream zoids characters and plots. But I do own all my original chars, zoid designs, and some plot elements. In fact I've gotten a copyright.

In my bedroom on the Whale, I brought Sarah and Vega in to ask them a few questions. Vega took a seat in my desk chair, Sarah leaned against the glass wall and I sat down on my futon with a PDA in hand set to take notes.

"Sarah, before I start I want to let you know my last goal is to endanger either of you."

She looked at me doubtfully.

"I'm sure it is, we do have the Fury after all."

I ignored the threat and turned back to Vega, who was playing with one of Rax's models.

"Vega, I'd like to ask a few questions about the zoid the Backdraft wanted you to pilot out in the desert."

He put down the toy to look at me curiously.

"Which one?"

I wrote down that he's a regular test pilot then looked back up at him.

"…it's a new one. A Black Liger."

He thought for a minute.

"…the weird one?"

I nodded, grateful a kid at his age remembered.

"They had me just do whatever they told me on the radio. I ran around a bit first. The legs were weird, I couldn't do sharp turns. Like the armor was holding the joints."

I jotted this down.

"So you think it had on an armor like the Liger Zero?"

He nodded quickly.

"Exactly like that. I saw some drawings of some more armors, just like on the Zero."

…those blueprints Eve sent me…

"But this armor was new."

"So you've piloted the Liger before?"

He looked at the toy while he spoke.

"Yeah, except it was all red and smaller before. They didn't say it was the same zoid but the controls were the same."

So this black armor is new…I put down a check mark and looked at the model he was holding. It looked like a Geno Saurer with scissors on its back, a replica of the original Geno Breaker.

"…you have good taste in zoids there…"

He smiled at my compliment. I had to read up on interrogating kids like this, hence why I sounded like a detective.

"The Backdraft said my ancestor used this zoid."

"…pardon?"

As he was about to answer, out of the corner of my vision I saw Sarah tense a bit. But instead of doing anything she let him finish, must be a reflex for her.

"The Backdraft said my ancestor used a zoid that looked like this."

I looked closely at the Breaker.

"…so you're a descendent of Raven…"

He shrugged, he probably didn't care. Well, that explains a whole freakin' lot.

"Trey, can I ask you something?"

I nodded, figuring what could it hurt.

"What happened to this thing?"

He pointed at the toy. I thought for a minute.

"…actually our historians lost track of it. No one is sure where it went, but we know now some Geno Saurers have evolved into Breakers on their own."

"…the Fury said it used to be a Breaker."

Both Sarah and myself stared. This was new…

"…um…you mean it evolved from a Breaker?"

He nodded.

"He said after he got stuck underground with those other zoids he evolved down there. Then he talked about a bunch of stuff I couldn't understand."

I dropped the PDA and leaned forward attentively.

"…Sarah, how old did they date those Genos?"

She shook her head slightly.

"…about the time of Raven's death…the soil told that's when they were sealed up anyway. Maybe as a tribute to him."

I stared at the black haired kid, comparing him to the paintings of Raven I'd seen. It was only slight, but still, it was a match. Give the kid a scar and it'd be plain as day. This was why he was one of the best pilots. And the reason only he could pilot the Fury. It was in his blood. And here was playing with the Breaker toy's claws, not a care in the world.

"Vega, the black liger you tested, what was unusual about it?"

He made the Geno look like it was running.

"The claws were just lightning generators. The guns were really fast. Oh yeah, it had these funny blades that hid in its back."

Hm, the stealth blades…

"What was funny about them?"

"They were only sharp on the front side, not on the tips and back. The mechanic said that was so it didn't hurt the armor when they were folded. They like fold up down the center."

…so they were made of folding sections, hence how it hid so well…but this sacrificed half the cutting power. It was genius, limited but genius.

"Did you meet anyone who said they helped make the Liger?"

"The guy who made the Shadow Fox."

Layon…the genius has a name. I jotted this down quickly and thought to bring this questionnaire to a close.

"Well, thanks for giving me these answers Vega."

He nodded in response, playing with the Breaker claws.

"…you know, Rax has six of those in the same color…how about you keep that one for helping me out?"

The next thing I knew he had me around the neck thanking me and he was gone, running off to the hanger to show the Fury what he used to look like. Sarah let loose a rare laugh as he disappeared.

"It's been a while since her got a real toy…"

I shrugged, straightening my jacket after he'd near strangled me.

"Don't mention it…but one thing, did Layon name this black armor?"

I got her in a good mood, so she answered.

"Hailstorm. He said when he was a child his house nearly got totaled in one, he wanted this thing to be the essence of fear, so he named it after a childhood trauma."

…I liked this guy already.

4 Hours Later

"_**Well, you've been staring at a picture of the Negative Zero for hours, and doodling. Having fun?"**_

He kept asking that every ten minutes. I grunted, still looking at a video still of the Liger Zero X. On another window inside Psy's cockpit, my usual office space, I was drawing up a blue screen.

Right as he began his questions again I laid back, finished.

"…**_um…_**"

The two screens I'd been using tilted slightly, meaning Psy was looking at them in his mind's eye.

I had taken video stills of the Negative Zero and replicated an exact blueprint of the thing. I should have been a police artist.

"…_**great, we have the freakin' DNA of this thing memorized, but how is this gonna help anything?"**_

"I consider it a back up. If they do find a killer pilot and take this thing outside the ZBC, we have one too."

"…_**what, are we gonna strap this shit onto the little Liger? How about me? I'd look good dressed up as a Liger, it'd be like cross-dressing."**_

"…or we could use the actual Liger Zero…"

"…_**that too."**_

I saved the blueprint into a hidden folder and wrote an email to the ZBC President (Chett) about it. Then I untinted the cockpit using a dial rigged in with the glass circuitry to see Vega sitting on the Fury's head, his toy Geno Breaker acting out the greatest battle ever fought on Zi.

"…_**if they did use this as a weapon they'd need a sociopath, this kid is…"**_

"…a kid."

I debated with Psy who they'd use. Layon wasn't a pilot. Stroller, strangely enough, left the Backdraft after we'd fought him that one time. Said they made a fool out of him. Well, actually we did but they got the blame. The Fumas don't do Ligers, we had them over for poker a few days ago. Well, who ever they get, the Fury is nothing to them now. Just a thrown out project that they couldn't auction off online, even. Vega was a part time now, living in the city with Sarah starting a semi-normal life.

I reached up and did a small flip out of the hatch, landing with my feet between Psy's ears. Acrobatics wasn't my thing, but it was fun as hell.

"Hey Vega! You wanna take the Fury out for a run?"

He hadn't gone for a real ride in it since I'd fully fixed it. Needless to say the kid agreed.

1 Hour Later

I was in Psy, with my breathing mask on, going nearly 650. Flat land, full force. I steered down slightly, giving the legs more leverage and getting to 660. Want to know something even scarier? I looked back to see a vague form almost keeping up with us. The Fury. It was going at a speed unheard of for anything but a Saix. It wasn't a Brand and a Psycho Saix, but it was fast. By the time we hit 670 I gently started applying the brake, within fifty or so miles we were back down to a jog. Another kilometer and we were at a stop. But the Fury kept going full speed, and stopped on a dime next to us. Okay, I admit I couldn't do that.

"Nice brakes."

His face popped up in video form next to the controls.

"Thanks! Sarah taught me how to brake before she even let me in a zoid!"

I chuckled and walked Psy over to the Berserk fury, so close the heads were touching. I hopped out of the cockpit and onto the silver dino head, tapping my foot on the hidden hatch. Vega popped it open and crawled out into the bright desert air. He looked around, seeing nothing but flat horizon.

"Why'd we stop here?"

I pointed out East, where several flat-topped bumps lined the horizon.

"What are those?"

I let my hand drop and answered.

"…that's a colony of criminals. That area is on the border, if they go out and live there they can't be touched."

He stared out at the distant town.

"…Sarah told me we were in the Backdraft so we didn't have to live there…"

I stripped off my jacket, now in just a sleeveless shirt, it as the desert after all.

"Sarah's a good person. I grew up there, I should know."

He stared at me with saucer eyes.

"…but you're…a smart guy, you work with the ZBC! You fixed the Fury!"

I nodded slowly.

"I lived there because my parents were criminals. They tangled with the Backdraft. I was born after they moved there. I was the first one to leave."

He looked up at me with his head tilted.

"…so you didn't like them out there…"

I shook my head, taking off my hat to wipe off some sweat.

"…Trey, Sarah said Brand isn't your real name."

I smiled and explained to him about Max. how I took his last name so I could start a new life.

"Don't you miss your parents?"

I stared at a dust cloud we'd left during our run.

"Don't you?"

I sighed, hating to do this. I turned around and took off my shirt, so he could see my back.

"…holy…"

He said it right. The first time anyone has seen me with my shirt off. I'm in shape, a weight lifter and all, but my back. It's covered in scar upon scar, making a web pattern of old wounds my folks, neighbors and superiors had given me out there. I'd looked into laser removal but I'd have to do six sessions just to scratch the first layer. After a minute I pulled my shirt back on and turned back to the kid, who was silent.

"…Vega, there are a lot of good parents out there. Like Sarah and Max."

He nodded, starting to understand. Then caught off-guard with an odd question.

"…did Max ever have a team?"

I nodded.

"…a good one…first Saix pilot to make it to S Class."

Vega was looking at me, but not focusing on me.

"Did Max have any kids?"

I raised an eyebrow.

"I met him after he retired, he moved out there to avoid the media. But yeah, he mentioned a daughter that grew up."

The kid kept staring.

"Did she like zoids?"

Actually he never said much about her. Just that she had grown up and left.

"…he never said…why?"

"Did he ever talk about finding paths?"

…how did Vega know…

"…yes he did…a lot, actually."

"…I think Max is Sarah's dad."

My hat slipped out of my grasp and floated onto the silver zoid's back. The...frick...

"…Vega, is this heat getting to you?"

He looked serious.

"Trey, Sarah taught me about zoids just like Max did. Same lessons even. Sarah says her dad never liked her going into the Backdraft. She hasn't seen him in a while."

He paused to let the words sink in.

"…Max went out there because the media found out his daughter started working for the Backdraft…She told me that when she got hurt and thought she wouldn't make it."

I let that ring in my head before answering.

"…it's possible…"

Vega nodded, seeing I was understanding.

"…and Max like adopted you, right?"

"…he said he'd eventually get the paperwork down…"

Vega started smiling.

"So you're Sarah's little brother. And she adopted me, but she doesn't tell anyone."

…isn't eighteen a bit old to be the younger child? Wait…does this mean…

"…and you're my adopted nephew…"

He broke into a grin. I even smirked a bit in response.

"…get back in the Fury."

With that I spun on my heel and walked back over onto Psy. Vega stared at my back as I slipped my hat back on.

"Where are we going?"

As I hopped down into the hatch Psy answered for me.

"_**You ever been to a sports bar, kid?"**_

Author's Notes

...well, this is a chapter. No major explanations, no twists, but do review. I'm still going to have Chase make zoids, so keep the suggestions up. And if my linking my chars to the anime ones bothers anyone, think of like this, only by law are they connected.

_**  
**_


	38. Chapter 38

"…and if he doesn't manage to get up in ten seconds, the other guy wins the match."

Vega nodded at this, relieved that the term 'knock-out' was only slang, he thought the guy actually blacked out.

We were sitting at the counter of a particularly high-class sports bar, actually it was low class, but the owner just won his weight in gold at the track. I was teaching Vega about the real world. Okay, I was teaching him about junior-middleweight boxing. I probably mentioned ages ago the fact I was addicted to martial arts for years on end while raining with Max. Well, it didn't fade away after I left the desert.

"Now you see how he pushed off with his left there? Bad move, he let the acceleration of the punch carry his neck to the side, if he weren't a bulldog he'd be down on the canvas meeting the Man in the Hood."

Vega was barely following along as I pointed out every move on a flat-screen TV over the cash register, playing a high-ranking match. He was starting to pick up on boxing, but one question caught me off guard.

"Don't you mean the Chainsaw Man?"

…when I said Man in the Hood, I meant Death. Well, kids these days assume the Chainsaw Man and Death are the same guy.

"…that's for zoids, we're talking fighters."

We had gone straight from the desert to this place. We hadn't mentioned to anyone that we were now related. Actually, Sarah probably knows. She knew me by glance when she first stuck a gun to my back. And if she knows me she'll know Max. Do I need to go down the rest of the grape vine?

"Why is the corner man pressing that bar on the guy's head?"

"Well, Vegas, that piece of metal has been in a freezer for a few hours, it stops the swelling."

He munched on the free pretzels they have in a silver bowl and sipped his soda. I found out something scary. The Backdraft only gives out water and citric acids to drink. Sarah has been trying to get used to dairy and soda again. Hey, this kid blows away Zi someday, I'll be in the books for buying him his first cola.

So this was being an uncle. Wasn't that bad. Now being a younger sibling was going to be a walk in the radioactive, corpse filled pit surrounded by barbed wire…eh…park. Well, I'll handle Sarah later. This young lad needs to learn why two men in their baggy underwear are hitting each other and not falling down.

Twelve rounds of teaching later I took the kid through downtown and back to our parked Killer Whale. We have to cloak it even in public, actually. Too many zoidaphiles wanting to touch it. We hopped out of our zoids we walked back shoulder to shoulder to the living quarters. I heard Psy chuckle to himself as we walked into the elevator. I wonder why.

Sue and Rax were in the kitchen eating. Sarah was asleep. Usually she doesn't sleep much looking after Vega. Now that she's around trusted people, she's sleeping twelve hours a day. Sue looked up at us from her plate, nodded and then did a double take.

"…Chase, why is Vega dressed up like you?"

…okay, so he had on some jeans. And a black shirt. And a thin leather jacket I got him to explain what leather is. And a logo baseball cap with the Reckless logo on it. And my spare sunglasses on the brim.

"…eh…found out we're related?"

Rax and Sue stared. Rax raised a questioning, yet greasy finger.

"…um…but you don't look like each other."

I explained our little family situation. Clara walked in half way, so I had to start over once but she caught on fast and commented along with Rax and Sue.

"…so you're the adopted children of a mother and daughter…you could not be any less related."

Vega was adjusting his new jacket as I defended us.

"…um…you see….Damn, I always wanted a clone, okay?"

Rax and Sue actually nodded at this. They liked the idea of passing on your flaws, addictions and shortcomings into a child was essential to living a worthwhile life. Clara was too busy to argue, she'd taken out a camera and started taking pictures.

One Day Later

"So you see, the joint sections can easily be trimmed down."

I had just finished my latest project, and was showing Vega just what'd I'd done. He didn't seem impressed.

"…that's…just a Zaber Fang."

I stared at him, wondering if the cloning machine had been running on old batteries.

"…rule one of Zoids. Never trust your eyes."

I took out the bulky universal remote I used on zoids and tapped a button. The standard orange Zaber just stood there, flaunting its lack of guns and weaponry. In a second it charged up and twisted its neck like it was waking up. I hit a second button and it disappeared into thin air. Vega nearly let his eyes fall out onto his sneakers.

"…I got my hands on this prototype cloaking device, it's pretty powerful but reduced size. Figured this was a good test dummy."

A Zaber with a high-tech weapon? Call the evening news. I clicked it back into existence, loving the power trip and hit the next button. Soon the entire hanger was filled with an eerie, slow moving white mist. But you could breathe easily through the solid looking mass.

"…new smoke screen."

I heard Vega shift his feet from the cloud next to me.

"Hey, I can breathe…the Backdraft smoke usually gets me coughing."

I nodded as the smoke started to fade.

"This is made of water vapor, an idea I borrowed from an old design. The BD uses a thicker, more toxic industrial mixture. Good thing you didn't get a lung condition."

As the mist faded Vega was looking interested, finally.

"So, you just took a regular zoid, made the insides better and added stuff?"

Actually I gutted it, compacted all parts to allow a more efficient motor system and some new weaponry and features. The Twist? It was identical to any other Zaber. The Sleeper Fang.

After the demonstration we crashed in my room, waiting for Sarah to wake up. Eh, why were Sarah and Vega living with us? Well, we offered that they could stay the night, and Sarah took advantage of us. She's been asleep or resting the whole time, she must watch this kid like a hawk on Ritalin. I just asked them for some info on the Negative Zero, and they're milking us like a hotel with late check out. But Reckless seems to like having the Kid around. We didn't call him the King, that was a bit much for a kid of his size. The Kid was his usual code name. But if he really showed improvement in learning the Ways of Trey I called him Vegas.

Right as I was explaining with my hands how kickboxing differs from boxing Clara walked in holding a printout.

"Hey, Mister Miyagi, ZBC called. We finally got a battle."

I calmly turned to her, took the printout and scanned it to my brain in three seconds. Lesse, it was surprisingly a mountain valley area. A four on four, hopefully the Wolf freakin' evolves by then! I swear, if it doesn't come out tomorrow I'm getting a crowbar. Then I noticed the team name.

"Quickstrike Team…pretty well rooted in A Class."

Clara leaned over my shoulder to look. I wish we didn't have these really tall female pilots on the tam, sometimes I like the responsibility of getting things off shelves.

"What machines they running?"

"Pretty sure one has a Salamander. But these guys switch zoids like every month, all I can be sure of is they want speedsters."

"Well, whatever they're packing we got two weeks to wait. The ZBC has been on hiatus. The Judges are doing recon work, I've heard."

I gave her back the printout and sat down at my desk. Vega was on my bed examining a boxing glove.

"That should be enough time to work with Psy on the new project…"

Clara immediately hopped up and parked herself on the corner of my desk like a sleezy secretary.

"Whatcha workin' on, Mr. Bwand?"

…she was into old comedy movies…I chuckled and tapped up a file on the desk screen.

"…air foil wings for the Reaper…Psy thinks he has a formula that'll make the thing fly, not hover."

Clara had pulled out a nail file and started doing her nails.

"Does Sue know how to work an aerial zoid?"

"…she's a Jill of all Trades. She only signed on as a sniper even though she has background in sniping, weapon mastery, close combat major, and aerial fighting."

My secretary stared.

"…um…what else does she do?"

"She's taking a course in underwater piloting, and she's a damn great cook."

I was suddenly aware Vega was staring at us.

"…eh…don't repeat that to Sarah…"

He laughed a bit, not the kind of kid to rat us out.

"Sarah doesn't even talk like that with Stroller."

Max never cursed either. Must be genetic. Then my ears perked up and I swiveled in my chair at that name.

"…you know Stroller?"

He nodded.

"Yeah, when I lived in a whale King he used to stop by and take me places."

Unseen by Vega, I hit a button on the tape recorder taped under my desktop.

"…what kind of places?"

"Like old ruins. But we didn't dig or anything like the Backdraft usually does, he just gave me tours and taught me about stuff."

"Stuff you'd use as a pilot…"

He shook his head, he oversized boxing glove was now on his left hand.

"Nah, more fun stuff like Zoid Eve and old zoids."

I raised an eyebrow, causing my low-set hat to move slightly.

"…he taught you about Eve…"

Vega nodded and kept pretending to box.

"Did the Backdraft ever talk about her?"

"No, Stroller just said once that I needed a better education."

I nodded slowly. Rax ran by yelling he had some new models, an instant later Vega was on a beeline to the toy room. Clara, still filing her nails and doing a Jersey Accent, looked at me.

"Ya think Stroller was trainin' the little fella'?"

I shook my head.

"….actually it sounded like a father-son thing…."

…so Stroller was into Zoid Eve, and taught Vega about it. I wasn't aware these great pilots, Backdraft and all, lived and socialized like this. I shook off that thought and went back to Psy's design for the Reaper.

"So we're thinking, of making the Reaper partially aerial. That way it could take advantage of all of Sue's areas of talent."

"…and keep up with the Salamander next battle."

"Precisely."

Shortly after I showed her the blueprint, we parted ways to the living room and the Hanger.

"…_**so the Elephander guy is religious, and took Vega out for a guy's day out."**_

I nodded as I buffed out a bolt on Psy's unusual ear. Even as a normal Saix, his ears had these little points on the tip like a bobcat.

"Yep. Good to know the kid got a good education a least."

"_**But what if Stroller finds out we're housing Vega?"**_

"We're not, Sarah is using us as a cheap hotel."

I felt the ground shake under me as Psy chuckled. He's been working on miming his mouth as he talked, it looked kind of realistic, even though the sound still came from speakers.

"_**Well, if he does get pissed I'm not taking on that zoid."**_

…who _would_ want to take on the Elephander?

"Well, I'm prettty sure he ain't gonna be charging in here for Vegas."

Another chuckle, this one nearly toppling me off his head.

**_"You always did suck at names...first the Psycho Saix, now Vegas."_**


	39. Chapter 39

DISCLAIMER: I don't own zoids or zoids copyrighted characters, but I own everything I made in this story.

It was early morning. Not exactly midnight, but the sun was still under the horizon. Probably the same hour I'd left the desert, I've been thinking about that a lot lately. But who cares about the time. All I knew was Psy buzzed me on the intercom with some news, and here I was.

The place was a stretch of flat granite next to a isolated canyon. On top of the canyon, was our cloaked Whale. Even though it was colored black and it was past midnight, we cloaked it. I was sitting back in the darkened cockpit of Psy. The only light I could see came from a few digital readouts of every color. A mirror image of the time and date was projected onto my light gray shirt.

But I didn't notice. My eyes were gazing right out the glass into the shadows. In the center of my focus, was a group of shadows that stood out from the rest. This shadow was moving, my oak eyes following it. Back and forth, forward and back, and what appeared to be a flip or roll. I heard the gentle click of the intercom turning on.

"It handles nothing like the Urban Assault…"

I sighed, leaning closer to the microphone/speaker. I was tired. Need I mention the time again?

"Give it another ten minutes. It took nearly a week to evolve, might as well spend some time getting used to it."

That shadow was whatever came out of the Command Wolf Juggernaut's cocoon. I say that because I currently have no clue what it is.

Ten minutes later I pulled Psy into the invisible Hanger entrance. The garage was dark except for several spotlights on the parking places. I moved the Saix onto one of the spots and hopped up onto the head and watched the entrance. A piece of the night then walked in. On four legs the shadow moved into a parking space, into the light where it was stripped of its disguise.

A second later Clara emerged on the top of the creature. I watched her get off it before I jumped down myself and waked her to the elevator. We talked quietly as we stepped out into the kitchen. As I turned to say goodnight to her I felt something jam into my thigh. I looked down to see a thin ankle covered in black cloth. I jerked my head up to see Sarah, our ever-sleeping houseguest, sitting on the counter staring at us. For the first time she was wide awake.

"…bit late for you two to be catching a movie at the drive-in…bring me back any popcorn?"

I locked eyes with her, Clara took the cue to walk off to her room. Always a pacifist, leaving me to deal with the nosy mountain lion.

"…we were working on night vision details…"

I was dressed in some cotton shorts and a tee shirt, my sleeping clothes. There goes my training excuse. Sarah just stared. I meanwhile was starting to piece something together. Sarah had seemed to just sleep constantly, ever since we let her in her. Yet here she was wide awake. Maybe she was nocturnal. Whatever she was, she kept her eyes locked.

"…just wanted to get you while you're up…"

She slid onto her feet on the tile before me. We were about the same height barefoot.

"…just wanted to thank you for accepting Vega and I as guests…my sleeping habits probably took you all off-guard."

I raised an unseen eyebrow.

"…we figured you were worn out from watching the kid, we didn't mind."

This was the first I'd really talked to her since she had a gun to my head. Think I should mention we're related? She was eying me coolly, lower jaw left loose like a runway model.

"…Vega mentioned that you punks took good care of him. Allow me to guess, my reputation as a Backdraft Member?"

"…actually, he's a good kid…"

She blinked, her shield flickering.

"…hm…well, I expected you'd throw us out after you got the information you needed."

I eyed the dark kitchen. You'd think I'd turn on some lights, but I think this was conversation was best told in the dark.

"We have a lot of space on here, we didn't mind helping out. Besides, you two need all he security you can get."

She nodded in silent agreement.

"…well, there may be a deeper meaning…I recognized you when I caught you with the Fury because you were in the news…"

So does the general public…

"…and in part because you're the reported prodigy of Max Brad. And Heir to his nickname."

…so I was Max's adopted son, and I got stuck with being Chase Brand. Before she stated another obvious fact I sighed and just said it.

"…Sarah. I know you're Max's daughter."

It was too dark to tell, but I think she let her supermodel jaw drop.

"…well…er, that saves me some time…"

I nodded, taking over the conversation.

"…Max took me under his wing shortly after he moved out there."

"…I really need to apologize to him again…"

So she knows she put him to shame…great. But honestly I only got to see him for a few days after we left the Desert, this chick hasn't seen him in easily ten years. How old was she anyway?

"…so he adopted me, making us…"

…I sensed this was awkward to her, too. I heard her scratch her neck like I did sometimes. Come to think of it, we both acted like Max.

"…siblings…"

Sounded better from her mouth. But right after she said that she went for the knockout.

"So we're related, big deal. What were you and that girl doing at this time of night?"

I'd ask her the same question, but it was now very clear she was just nocturnal, a common trait in the Backdraft.

"…we just had a zoid evolve…it's a new breed, the pilot wanted to try it out as soon as we heard, and I wanted to keep it under wraps until our next battle."

My long lost sister made a sound of interest from the dark in front of me.

"…how about you get off to bed, little brother. You shouldn't be up this late."

…so started the sibling problems...I grunted in resent and walked off to my room. I heard her laugh as she stayed out in the kitchen, probably killing time. So this is why she slept so much. She was switching slowly from a night-dweller to a sun follower. My sister, the weirdo. Damn, I sound like a sitcom character.

Five Hours of Blessed Sleep Later

The sun-blocker mode on the windows got me a few extra hours of sleep, even after the sun was going full force my window-wall tinted darker automatically. By the time I escape from my futon's clutches and got dressed I smelled breakfast being cooked from the other side of my door. I walked out to find Team Reckless clustered in the kitchen. Sue was working the stove, counter and microwave at the same time while Rax and Clara sat around in their pajamas drenched in sweat. As I took a seat at the counter I asked about why everyone looked like they ran a marathon.

"…look down."

I looked at Rax for a moment then did so. My shirt and shorts were also dark with sweat. What the…Sue answered before I cursed.

"…winter is almost over…and us desert hobos are about to go from resort weather to Death Valley."

…wait…for the last six months, it'd been winter? Oh yeah, this is the desert.

"…so it's going to get hotter?"

Rax nodded, wringing out his sleeve.

"Yep. It starts with the night heat waves. Then the draughts and ice shortages by spring. Summer, well, the city is usually a ghost town for three months."

…I wish some one would've explained this to me before I left my nice little limbo of shame for the frying pan out here. I just shook my head, already working out a new air conditioning system in my head.

"Hey, Clara said you spotted our houseguest last night."

Did Sue mean Sarah or that botched genetic project from last week?

"Yeah, broke the news to her finally."

Clara was covering a plate in eggs.

"How'd she take it?"

"She told me to go to bed, and laughed her head off. Great, I finally have a family, but it comes with a bitchy sister."

Sue, dressed in her usual black slacks and top but with a blue apron around her waist, smirked as she handed me my plate. Her hair has recently been cut, she had a single black lock falling out next to her right eye and the rest loosely braided onto her back.

"Hey, some day you'll need beer and she'll be your best friend."

I glared. She smirked wider in victory.

"I mean, you're only eighteen….sure you could pass off as a twenty something but your ZBC license is stabbing you in the back."

…note to self, new equation to try out. Knife+SuePeace.

After stocking up on eggs and toast we all turned at the sound of feet. Vega, wearing a tee shirt and jeans, walked out of the guest room Sarah was in and toward our feeding trough.

"Mornin'…"

We all grunted in reply as Sue set out a smaller plate for the little guy.

After the silent eating frenzy Vega piped up something.

"Hey guys, Sarah told me to get a look at the new zoid then tell her everything without you idiots knowing."

I felt Clara nudge me as she looked at him.

"Nice espionage work…Sue, you should teach him how to fit into those black spandex outfits."

The cat fight was only avoided because children were in the building. I handed in my plate and nodded toward the elevator, Vega followed me to the Hanger. As the door closed and we started going down I cleared my throat officially.

"Psy, my jackass assistant slash zoid, buzzed me in the early morning to tell me it had finally come out of the cocoon. I woke up Clara and we went out to test it."

He nodded as the door opened and we walked out toward the thing.

"…just a warning, I know as much about it as you do."

We finally got to its parking space and looked up at it. The first thing you noticed was the outline. The color was…odd. Remember the Juggernaut's color? It was a gray-looking, digital camouflage pattern. Well, it'd gone from a gray pattern to…it was dark colored. But it seemed to blend in. In the desert at night, it was black like everything else. In here, it was a steel gray just like the floor. I'll get to the freaky colors later.

It was quite clearly a wolf. Four legs, a tail, elegant but streamlined head with a short mane. The legs themselves seemed to be a slimmer version of the Konig's. Knee joints easy to see, a thin skin of armor covering them. But if this thing was a Juggernaut evolution, they'd be hell to break of. The upper legs were built naturally into a detailed torso. Not a square block, but a rounded, very realistic wolf body. Except for one small detail. Strapped closely onto each shoulder were two long tubes, like plumbing pipes being carried on a beast of burden. A closer look revealed these plain looking pipes were very powerful missile launch systems, combined with a homing system these could be deadly.

I thought the tail was actually kind of nice. It wasn't a thick cable like a Liger or a little stub of a Command Wolf. It was a flexible, slightly long appendage composed of plated and jointed metal parts. The bushy-looking tip was actually a secondary laser for strikes from behind and to the side. The head showed its uniqueness. While a Konig had pride as a loyal hound, this had a feral wolf head mounted between the shoulders. A jagged, probably spiky mane with a long snout ending in a closed mouth with a few fangs poking out. Overall, this thing could pass as a wolf that got into some radioactive slime. The green eyes clashed with the rest of it. If not for the metal-details and the tubes on the back it could pass as a real wolf.

The silver color I found out was only temporary. The digi-camo had taken on a higher form. It s properties had gone from slight coverage, to the point this thing changed color depending on what backdrop it was up against. Cloaking technology? No, a flaw in human vision this thing takes advantage of. So, a giant, dark colored wolf sporting dual missile systems, a rear cannon and probable good close combat capabilities. Vega took all this in as we slowly circled it.

"Trey, it doesn't have that many weapons on it."

I nodded in agreement.

"…that's what I thought. But Psy seems to think every weapon on this thing is multi-purpose."

A blank stare.

"…it's innovative enough that each weapon could be used for several purposes. It's very simple in design, so it doesn't clutter itself and boosts his movement speed."

A blank nod.

"…oh yeah, check this out."

I tap a button on my watch. The wolf head moves slightly, then opens its mouth and lunges forward as if to bite a neck. It then freezes as if the pause button was hit. Inside the gaping, tooth-framed mouth sits the exposed barrel of a small firing weapon.

"…what's that?"

I scratched my hat-clad head.

"…well, it's similar enough to the Konig that it's probably a Sniper…but it probably has other uses, like the rest of the zoid."

A slightly less blank nod.

"…what's it called?"

…I spent all night working on that, actually…

"You know the Shadow Fox, right?"

He perked up and nodded, obviously remembering several battles.

"I could never design a zoid that good. It's so simple, but the technology sets it ahead. Well, even though this was a creation of Fate I'm naming it the Shadow Wolf as a tribute."

He just nodded again. I felt my eyebrow raise to the point of being inside my hat. The King of Zoids really didn't know how they worked.

"What's that?"

He was facing the opposite direction, his little arm extended all the way toward an aquamarine Liger parked next to my Hell Digunner.

"…that's Clara's old Blade Liger."

"So she's going from that to this?"

Now the kid had one arm toward the Wolf, the other toward the Liger. Maybe if I confused him more I could make him do a cartwheel.

"…she's a pretty good pilot, yeah."

I started walking back to the elevator as he lowered his arms and jogged to catch up.

"Sarah said you and her were an item or something. What does that mean?"

I stared into space as I hit the elevator button.

"…it means your mom hates your uncle…"

"_**Hehehee…"**_

I heard my fist crack from the reflex clench as I heard a zoid chuckle behind us.

Author's Notes

Sorry about the delay, had to add a chapter to my other fanfic.


	40. Chapter 40

Disclaimer; See previous chapters

…our little bar patron has returned…he's at his bar stool, drink in hand, both eyes at the screen over the bar. The pre-battle show is doing a profile on the new Quickstrike line-up. Salamander, a vintage Ice Blazer, a matching Zeek Dober, and a rather lacking Storm Sworder. A bomber, an amazing aerial zoid that they jammed some weaponry onto, killing off its stunt abilities and two doberman zoids. They were tough…but not that smart.

All the QS zoids were painted a royal green, making the two dog zoids rather hard to tell apart. The two aerial zoids had deployed and were circling the battlefield. Today it was a vast concrete plain, a literally leveled Republic Base from who knows when. The dogs, were…eh…tearing each other apart. Literally, he two green pitbulls were pinning each other down and biting. The pilots seemed to have a bit of a grudge.

When the Killer Whale made its appearance over the field the two dogs pulled apart and stareda the horizon, the prehistoric bird and the skinny dragon going back toward the center. The orca opened its mouth out launched four dots, which touched down in a cloud of dust. Strangely enough, there is no dust or sand on stone. They must have launched a smoke bomb for effect.

Well, that weird smoke hadn't cleared by the time the Judge called the battle mode. The minute he swung his hand down four dark shapes sped out of the cloud in different directions. The Quickstrike Team Dobermans backed into each other slightly, covering each other's back. The flyboys just kept gliding. The cameras got their sight on the Urban Slash first. It was jogging around the perimeter, not seeming too offensive today. Well, that shadow flicking around the area over and over again in a figure eight must be Brand…there's the dinosaur skeleton…its hidden boosters charged up as it sped along the ground, and somehow it propelled itself into the air, its wings folding sideways for extra lift. It was…flying…not exactly a Raynos though...it bobbed a bit on dives, took turns pretty sharply when it didn't jus sp and hover, and its speed was jus above average. But at the time, the whole bar stared as it ascended into Heaven to go tear St. Peter a new one.

Nobody looked twice at the other shadow, they figured it was just the Juggernaut. Then the remote camera operator did a double take, revealing something was…different. That wasn't a zoid, that was a giant freakin' wolf! Wait…those were guns…it's a zoid after all. So, big realistic wolf that was currently a dark concrete color. Nice looking, but where's the CPC? The Vulcan cannon? The chain guns? Before we could make guesses the camera switched to one of the Dobermans, probably the Zeek. It made took off like a rocket toward the circle of Reckless zoids. And it was…fast. That little dog was going at nearly Saix speed! And its brother caught up without even trying.

A second later they were tailing the speeding Mystery Wolf. They then slowed down staying behind as the wolf pilot tried to jog to the side. They hung right back there, fast enough that they could do whatever. Then the larger one shot out fast enough the camera didn't catch it. Right as we braced for the strike there was the same speed demon, flying back with its legs flailing. There was a cannon in the wolf's tail…nice. The dog's brother went on without it, stalking the Wolf. Well, he dog landed on its side, got up, shook itself off and went o chase it again when the Saix flashed by and it decided for a different hunt. Soon enough he dog was chasing the cat, which was easily twice the speed, the poor dog. And the arrogant dog waited for its wild cousin to slow down so he could kill the new zoid.

Another camera angle showed the Reaper, now airborne, chasing the Salamander while the Sworder kept flashing by shooting a powerful blast with a large cannon and missing every time. Who puts a chain gun on a flying zoid. Soon enough the Salamander's wing caught fire from the Reaper's barrage and started lowering itself, signaling the Judge that it was out. The bar groaned, we loved crash landings.

Now back to the Reckless speedsters getting chased by two hungry attack dogs. Well, the Saix wasn't just stopping and killing his pursuer while the wolf occasionally teased the Zeek with a rear cannon blast, making him roll o avoid it and sending him back a mile before catching up. Rax, was nowhere in sight. The cameras soon flashed up the Saix, with the dog behind it in hot pursuit. The Psycho Saix cut left and back again for some reason. The dog did no such thing, must have caught on to Brand's tricks. Then it happened. One minute the Ice Blazer was going at it like a greyhound, sleek head forward, feet pounding the stone as it chased the cat it couldn't catch.

Then something wiped its legs out from under it, its head rammed into the ground, and it started rolling forward, whacking the turf each time. The Saix leapt up and flipped to celebrate, as it went on, laving the trashed dog behind. The camera zoomed behind it to reveal what had KOed it. There was a Slash Liger, laying stretched out on its belly on the ground. Rax and Brand had made the thing trip over the Liger.

That's why Doberman zoids weren't popular. They were fast, but they could only travel in a straight line. No slow turns even, no dodges. Brand had run that thing through a whole chase scene, building its speed and hen had Rax trip it. That's why Brand cut to the left like that, so he wouldn't hit Rax. The Ice Blazer, had no such blessing.

The bar had a good laugh at that. They even did slow-mo replay of the blazer tripping and rolling flat onto its face. They cut back to the wolf and Zeek Dover on its tail. Well, it seemed the Wolf was having a good time out there. Except now the Dober was pissed off and trying to rush full speed at the thing. But every time he even went to lunge the tail cannon sent him braking. He could turn to the side, he's just as bad as his brother. As in both the other zoid, and the fact the two dog zoid pilots are identical twin, that explains the little scuffle before the battle.

Well, then the would pilot showed her claws. She jumped sideways and stopped. Well, her pursuer kept straight ahead, overshooting a few miles into nowhere. Then it fell onto its side and slid to a stop after a half mile slide. It hadn't tripped on Rax, the Slash Liger and Psycho Saix stood off to the side, making their zoids do a handshake. The Wolf ran up to them and flipped its hind legs forward, sliding sideways for a yard like it was going to fall over like the other canines, then calmly stopped and let the cameras admire the silver-tinted lupine as it stood in a classic pose. Out of focus, brand as making his Saix look like it was laughing.

While the other cameras collected promo footage of the new Team Reckless pilot and her mystery zoid, the main cameras swiveled to the sky chase. The weighted-down Sworder was swooping back and forth to avoid a barrage of blasts from the three headed, winged skeleton of a long-dead beast. I mean the Geno Reaper, for those of limited vocabulary. That Sworder was an odd specimen. Standard pterodactyl shape, but on each wing was a small cannon and the back was striped with a chain gun knock-off. The ending effect, a very bad plane.

Yet it kept swerving so much the Reaper pilot couldn't aim and fly at the same time. Then the green little dinosaur finally jolted as its wing left wing clipped off, sending it into a shallow dive. The pilot popped out of the cockpit, and floated down on a parachute even though the green bird landed on its belly rather smoothly. But let's watch the replay. The bird was struck from the side. And playing back another camera shows the new wolf zoid firing a sniper shot from its open mouth.

The Judge called it, and the bar broke into a wave of questions about the new Reckless machine. But the after-battle show was priceless. The twins, the pilots of the Zeek Dober and Ice Blazer, ran out of their zoids and started beating the shit out of each other. Team Quickstrike's zoids were out of commission, so they had to have a transport pick them up. But here's another quirk, they left behind both Dobermans. Just lf them for scrap, after their first battle. Needless to say, Reckless still has it.

And that's how it would have looked to any fan at home. But in the cockpits, it was even better. Quickstrike left us a message the night before the battle. Basically showing off their new zoids, the Blazer and Dober. This essentially pissed us all off, and gave me time to plan out our little tripwire stunt. But Clara and the Shadow Wolf stole the show.

I mean, she's a relatively new pilot when it comes to battles. Amazing track record in the Sectors though. But in a new, unfamiliar zoid, and she shakes off two speedy attack zoids like that? I admit I tipped her off on how to finish the Dober off, but her tail firing was amazing. And her little ground-o-air snipe was…well, before everybody knew Rax, Sue and I as Team Reckless. They sometimes mentioned a fourth member, but Clara was up there with us now, her Sectors past had caught up with her.

But enough of this background dribble and battle statistics. Back to Team Reckless in their natural habitat. Let's cut to ten minutes after leaving the battle site. We were all in the living room, keeled over whatever soft furniture we had. Hey, it was a fun battle, not an easy one.

"…well, Miss Olympia seems confident after beating me to my mark…"

Sue, face down in the armchair, was saying Clara shot down her prey before she the Reaper could catch it.

"…eh…sorry, the new zoid and the adrenaline got to me…"

No kidding. She was whooping and dancing all the way back to the Whale. Remember how she got a bit wild with the Juggernaut? Well, the Shadow Wolf is like a second skin to her now. Either that or there's a gas leak in her cockpit.

I was hunched down on the couch, my arms killing me from the speedy turns. Rax was lying flat on the carpet, his bandana dripping in sweat. Clara was rcinedon the other half of the couch. This was the biggest upcoming team in the Zoids Battle Commission, all zonked out like a litter of kittens, Makes you think really.

I've been reading my earlier journal entries. I haven't changed that much. I became a bit more sarcastic, more street smarts but deep down I'm still Trey. Rax is still the freakshow pilot from down South. Sue is still a registered mercenary, but she hasn't done a job in months since we're financially stable. Clara? I'm not sure what she was like before I met her.

Is his what Eve meant? Helping people? I took a bunch of no-names, including myself and made it big time. And we helped out charities, stuck to our roots, trained just as hard, we didn't become some spoiled A Class team. Then again neither did the Lightning Team, and they're in Class S.

You're probably wondering what happened to Sarah and Vega. Well, good news. Sarah and the little guy went to the ZBC and turned themselves in. Well, more like gave out every bit of info they had in exchange for immunity and new identities. I heard she wanted to get a place out in the suburbs. Of course this was only a couple days ago, it's not like I'm looking back on it. We did miss Vegas. And I wanted to get to know my sister a bit more. And get revenge.

But back to my team. We were all passed out in the living room as the whale went on autopilot back to the Lake. It had been getting hotter during the day. Nights were terrible and getting worse but when it got like that during the day that was our signal to get back under the Lake. We didn't move much during the flight and during the trip to the bottom of the lake. But when we did wake up and Clara went to get something out of her Molga she came back with some questions.

"Hey Chase, what's with the new zoids?"

…okay, I'd kind of picked up the Ice Blazer and Zeek Dober…the other guys abandoned them in their prime, I hate to see a zoid left like that. And on top of all that crap I want to improve their design. I know, I know, we nearly get killed by those things and I want to make them more efficient.

"…beats leaving them at the Pound."

She just laughed and left me alone in my room, watching a movie on my couch and doodling little dog zoids onto a scrap of napkin with a pen I found in my jacket.

Six Hours Later

"_**Pssst…"**_

Psy was trying to wake me up through the intercom. I sighed, turned on a lamp and pressed the respond button.

"Which zoid evolved this time? The Molga?"

He chuckled. I hate it when he does that. Like I've mentioned, he speaks in my voice. As in exactly my voice.

"_**Nah, this is just another midnight social call."**_

I groaned and rubbed my eyes.

"_**And Eve says she likes that you did with the Shadow Wolf."**_

"…pardon?"

Now he had m wide awake.

"…_**the way you designed the Wolf was amazing, she said so."**_

"Psy…it evolved on its won, remember? _She_ made the zoid…"

He didn't miss a beat.

"_**Really…is that why a day before it grew a cocoon, you sketched a little picture of it on a fast food receipt?"**_

…what…?

"…_**look in your drawer."**_

I scrambled to my desk and opened the cluttered drawer, finding a small white slip of paper. I flipped it around to see a slightly detailed sketch of a realistic wolf zoid. With a sniper in its mouth, two barrels along the back and a tail…cannon…

"I…I forgot I mad this…"

The intercom snickered.

"_**Eve didn't. She loved the idea and brought it to life."**_

I thought this over for a second.

"…wait…so you mean I made the Shadow Wolf?"

He didn't answer, telling me that I should rewinding this conversation in my head. So, I'd made the Shadow Wolf…an agile, powerful yet classic zoid that used a few weapons to cover a variety of situations…dear Eve, I'd made something like the Shadow Fox. One problem with that, I'm nowhere near Layon's level of intellect, creativity or engineering.

"_**Well, G'night."**_

And he clicked out. Leaving me wide awake in the middle of the night, staring at the dim lamp light.

Eight Hours Later

"Chas, how long you been up?"

"…few minutes."

Actually, eight hours. I couldn't sleep so I went into the Hanger and started fixing our zoids, not exactly fixing the Fury but a tough job. Well, truthfully I fell asleep for a couple hours halfway through so I wasn't sleep-deprived. Sue had walked in on me examining the legs of the Shadow Wolf, which was now nearly silver because the sunlight that flickered through the Lake into our skylights changed the lighting in here. This thing had no real color, it truly was a chameleon. It wasn't very apparent in the battle though, it blended in very well but didn't change color. Well, live and learn.

"Just eat something before Noon, Chase."

And Sue walked out to go cook breakfast for herself and the sane habitants of this Giant Robotic Killer Whale. Psy had stayed pretty quiet. Either he was in sleep mode or reading a book off the web like he sometimes did, he was getting to be a bit more intellectual. At least I thought he was until he opened his jaws as I tapped a tension wire on the Wolf's foot.

"…_**you know what you need? A girlfriend. Clara has the hots for you already, and Sue would date a horse if he was rich enough."**_

"Psy, by any chance are you reading a book about New New Jersey?"


	41. Chapter 41

DISCLAIMER: ...see the last forty chapters.

…and then the blonde girl is the only survivor. I had just predicted the entire plot of this lame horror flick we were watching. And the opening credits were still rolling. I was leaned back in the movie theater seat, Sue and Clara did the same on each side of me. Rax stayed home to clean his toy room.

"Pssst…Sue, pass the buttered milkballs."

Clara had gone through the popcorn during the previews. Sue sighed and passed them over my lap. The credits stopped and the characters walked onto the camera, said each other's name loudly and clearly and started walking through the woods. Eve, kill me now.

Thirty minutes later the monster was revealed, a freaky wolf thing in a trench coat with chainsaw hands. The Chainsaw Man. How overused. Team Reckless groaned in unison as a bunch of teenagers with no knowledge of weapons fired round after round with a hard-to-use fire-arm into its head. Pfft, yeah, all hot blondes can use guns perfectly.

We walked out after the torture finally ended. The blonde lives, but a Chainsaw pops out of a vent and grabs her in the last scene. How does a chainsaw have fingers? I don't know either. We walked out of the theater and into the neon-lit downtown area. I had on my usual gray shirt, black faded jeans and dark performance shoes. And my hat and sunglasses, of course. No jacket because of the sweltering heat.

Sue had on some tight shorts with a few belts, a tank top and sunglasses with a visor slid through her hair. Clara, eh, dark jeans and a tee shirt? We don't exactly live in black clothes, it's just our uniform. And Clara needs to take a few sleeze lessons from Sue, she's getting a lot of media coverage with the Shadow Wolf, might as well attract some hormonal teens into the market.

We took shelter in a late night bar club, staking out seats by the screens at the bar. The blonde bartender-ess or whatever female bar hops are called, walked up and saw us staring at a zoid battle screen like moths to a light.

"…eh, you guys pilots?"

We nodded slightly and kept watching the screen without blinking. Bar-Blonde laughed and leaned over onto her elbows, the rest of the bar was empty because of the dance floor kicking up.

"…lesse…hat and sunglasses…a fine pair of legs…and the girl scout face…you from Team Reckless?"

I'm guessing in order she referred to Me, Sue, then Clara. How did she see Sue's legs? Well, she was leaned back with her heels on the edge of the bar, I think she was a call girl before a mercenary. I shrugged and looked at the blonde to answer during a commercial break.

"Yep, that's us. You get any zoid freaks in here?"

This bartender wasn't exactly tall, she was slender, blonde and had a New California Tan but she was a tad petite.

'You're checking one out. Heck, a friend of mine dated your Liger pilot for a while."

Sue snorted out a laugh, Clara nodded innocently and I raised an eyebrow. The blonde took this as a cue to keep talking.

"…so what did you think of the Checkmate interview?"

My ears perked up at the Checkmate.

"…pardon?"

She shrugged.

"Yeah, the other day Max Brand did an interview about the ZBC and he commented that Checkmate was getting back together."

I stared. This supposed zoid addict wasn't aware Max and I were related. We chatted with the bartender for a quick hour before we left for home. I was silent most of the time, until Clara popped the question as we walked into out kitchen.

"…Trey, what's Team Checkmate?"

I winced and took a seat on our counter.

"…um…it was Max's team when he was battling…he was the first Saix pilot to reach S Class."

Sue suddenly was in the conversation, staring daggers into me.

"…and they're coming back…what does this mean exactly?"

I shrugged.

"They'll just be a high-class S Class team. They went through the classes years ago, so no use doing it again."

Sue wasn't satisfied.

"What zoids? You're using Max's Saix…"

No, I was using Psy! Wait…crap.

"…eh…Max told me once he was looking for an X."

Now both Clara and Sue were staring at my little perch on the counter.

"…um…what kind of Ultimate X?"

I slipped off my hat and ruffled my hair.

"No clue. Last I checked there are no Saixes in the X Files."

(…hehe…I am such a bad writer…)

"_**Up yours!"**_

Our heads swiveled to the intercom as it clicked out. Eh…I guess he eavesdrops on us with that thing…

Twelve Hours Later

Berserk Fury Sighting. Liger Zero X Sighting. Backdraft Sighting. All the headlines were the same thing. Somebody saw something and wanted to tell everyone. Some dirt farmers saw the Fury fly by their hunting perch. I guess Vega picked up some practice habits from his handsome uncle. A family on vacation saw a black Liger in the distance. Turns out it was _just_ a black Liger. And the Backdraft flew one of their Whales over a residential area and the cloaking flickered for thirty seconds. I tossed the newspaper printout back onto my desk and went back to working on blueprints.

Psy had called me on the speaker this morning asking about the Reaper's flight statistics. He'd apparently forgotten about last night completely. In one voice receiver, out the other. Did Eve make him that way or was he like this deep down as a normal zoid?

My desk screen was currently flaunting a complete schematic for the Berserk Fury. An identical screen showed off a video frame of the Liger Zero X, or Negative Zero as we called it. The headlines had given me an idea. My cursor on each screen was on the back legs of each zoid. There was a similarity in the support style. Same thing with the neck supports, claws, even the teeth reeked of Berserk fury if you looked from an angle. Then again I notice if an ant has a missing pinky toe.

I was shirtless and cross-legged in my chair, staring at the dual screens. These visual similarities may be the tip of the Titanic-Killer. If the BF copied the Fury in order to simulate the Liger Zero, they were on the right trail. Truthfully, the Liger and Fury are extremely similar. Under the armor they're both simple, weak yet agile and fast black zoids. Strap on some armor and you have two powerhouses. In fact the Liger only had problems with Vega because those CAS armors were inferior. The Backdraft at least knew to make an armor with no obvious weaknesses.

In fact my drawer at the time held a notebook sketch of the Hailstorm armor Layon had made for the Negative Zero. I knew it was him because in all honesty the man is a genius. The folding blades, lightning manipulation and advanced shielding system just painted a picture of his inner mind. This thing must be what he, as a scared little kid, imagined a deadly Hailstorm looked like. And its appearance. I reached down with one bare arm and took out the sketch to take it in again. It was terrifying.

I scratched my shoulder as I put it away for the fifth time. I turned back to the two screens and repeated this cycle for another hour before retiring to the garage. I stepped out of the elevator to gaze on two brand new-looking dog zoids in adjoined parking spaces. I'd fixed the Blazer and Dober out of pity, I'd work on improving them out of curiosity later. I pulled on a shirt as I walked to the main console.

"_**Mornin'…"**_

I grunted and started ordering files from the keyboard and screen.

"…_**so…whatcha gonna call it?"**_

…I'd stopped wondering how he read my mind a long while ago. I just finished typing a word, calmly turned to the reclined zoid and stated.

"…the Liger Zero Torment."

He nodded his cat-head and rested it back onto his outstretched paws. He always thought he was a tabby housecat. I turned back to the console and kept typing.

"…**_so, what color? Black, orange, blue, green, gold, white and even red are taken."_**

…those two Ligers should be on a gay pride flag.

(What? They should. They're colorful and have good sense of furniture space.)

"I was thinking of copying the Wolf's chameleon trick and applying that."

"…_**a color changing Liger…and I thought a wolf was a stretch."**_

I shrugged in agreement as I adjusted a file size.

"…I kind of took a page from Layon's book."

"_**How? You got hair plugs under that hat?"**_

"…he named that armor after his childhood trauma…well, I'm naming this one after my childhood in general."

Temporary silence.

"…_**good to see you've forgiven your parents…"**_

I snorted at his joke and typed up a schematic for a leg joint from the standard Liger that was now dominating the transport market.

"Hey, maybe I could steal it from that Cloud guy for a day and trash my home town with it."

"…_**oh come on, I hated that warehouse too. I wouldn't mind going back, showing off the new threads, and the new blades…"**_

From behind my back I heard him deploy all his blades at once.

"…you realize you have guns built into you, right?"

A grunt.

"…_**you're the one who can't shoot a fish in a shoebox."**_

I winced. Okay, I was more speed and close combat, not a gun user.

"_**So I hear Clara is taking lessons about men from Sue."**_

I stopped typing in mid sentence.

"…what?"

"_**Yeah, they were both sharing a shower and Sue was going on about different things. Night clubs, drinks, fashion."**_

"…Psy…how did you know they were sharing a shower…?"

"…**_the intercoms have cameras. There's on in every room of this place, thank Eve for making the Killer Whale suited for my lifestyle."_**

...I'm scared...**_  
_**

"…better question…_why_ were they sharing a shower?"

There are like seven baths/showers on this ship. Why did they need to share?

"…_**and I thought I was bad with human culture…"**_

…what the hell was that supposed to mean! Yes, I was that stupid. Hey, you thought I went from spud to stud in a month in the city?

"…well, let's shake off the image of two girls showering together and get back to the two Ligers slashing it out."

"…_**kinky."**_

Now, I didn't wonder this till months later, but who the hell programs a sex drive into a zoid! Eve, if you're reading this, which I know you are you intrusive bitch, you are a sick, sick person. Goddess. Whatever. I hope I don't turn into a pillar of salt after writing this.

The Next Day

"…I cannot believe you said that in the interview…"

Sue had her head buried between her arms, sitting next to me on the couch as I flipped through a magazine that had asked us some questions.

"…I was telling them the truth."

The reporter had asked about being a Saix pilot. Well, Saix heads are close to their engine, meaning they overheat and can make even stronger pilots pass out. She wanted to know how I put up with the heat.

"…you told them not wearing much clothes while piloting a zoid is common practice…"

"It is. Ask any respected Saix pilot, and I bet they go commando."

She sighed and kept hiding her face. I rolled my eyes.

"You're the one who said you were a supporter of group sex…"

"I WAS SHOWING THEM I HAD A DEEP PERSONALITY!"

"…right, right…"

Rax walked by with an armload of toys. I looked up to see what'd they'd asked him.

"…I didn't know you were bilingual…"

He responded in fluent Japanese as he went to turn the bathroom into a Republic battlefield for his action figures. I shrugged and flipped to Clara's page.

"…hm, Sectors crap…Sectors crap...behind the scenes Sectors crap…Sectors Crap: Directors Cut…"

Next page. They did a fake, humor-based article about what would the Psycho Saix say if it could talk. Am I the only person who notices the sick irony of our lives? They made him sound like some Hispanic soccer player. They even typed in how he mispronounces words. And they hint at him going inter-racial with the Shadow Wolf. I tapped the intercom button on the table.

"Psy, you readin' this?"

I heard a sniffing sound.

"…_**I feel like a cheap whore…"**_

"…what, you have on six seat covers at all times. Besides a few scars, I'm not THAT bad with my clothes off."

Sweet revenge…


	42. Chapter 42

DISCLAIMER: See previous chapters. All forty something of them. Just a warning, another of Trey's hidden personal issues is about to bite the dust.

More Negative Zero sightings. Six in the last week. I don't mean tabloids here, I mean from ZBC officials straight to my email under armored file transfer. Video, color and black and white stills, we even have audio. All these files were strewn out on the screen in front of me in Psy's cockpit, I was leaned back as usual reading through the pictures while Psy jogged to kill boredom. I had been taking a nap in there, actually. Just snoozing behind the handles of a Lightning Saix until my email tone wakes me up.

"…_**soo…Vega is currently playing stickball under a new name somewhere…Sarah is joining the PTA, Stroller is off at a bordello somewhere and you're not sneaking out at night. Who's piloting that thing now that Vegas left?"**_

…wow, he can talk and run at the same time. I sighed and pulled off my hat to scratch my sweat-drenched bangs.

"I'm not a zoid nerd, I can't tell who's in a zoid by the smell of their urine from a hundred miles away."

He snorted, rather odd actually. He's incorporating some quirks into his language. You can tell the difference between me and him when you eavesdrop on us.

"_**Well, you play Sherlock Holmes, I need some exercise."**_

He went back into sprint drills, I went back to my pictures. Why is Psy running alone? Well, I'd train like usual but this ZBC business has me up late at night.

After Psy finished up he turned on his four heels and started going toward the rising sun on the edge of this infinite, flat dirt cod called the desert. Soon enough we were leaning toward 600MPH, my torso leaning down over the controls just to satisfy my speed/velocity addiction. We had a long while before we passed by any populated areas, why not live it up? In the name of my ancestors, I say…

"_**Wheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!"**_

"…yep…"

Isn't it great having a zoid finish your sentences for you?

"_**Yo, radar."**_

I looked left at the sky blue disc showing all major landmarks around us. One little colored shape hadn't been there a minute ago. Currently dozens of little canyons shapes were flying by. Well, a little red unidentified dot was underneath us and keeping up somehow. A fast zoid.

"…blades ready, probably some flyboy but be ready for a hit and run."

The air in the cockpit was tense as I watched the red dot rise up and as it entered scanning range a blank screen lit up with details. It probably wasn't a punk or Backdraft hit, but better safe then splattered. The scan screen showed a page of statistics, and next to it a rotating photo of a black cheetah zoid. We were being followed by another Lightning Saix.

"This guy after an autograph or we racing for pink slips?"

The cockpit speakers broke into Psy's snicker. Soon enough the red dot was next to us. I looked out the tinted glass to see a standard-paint job Saix jogging next to us at a fair pace. Wait…it wasn't going that…hold it!

"_**Um…if he's keeping up with us at that pace, that's a good damn pilot in there."**_

I nodded to no one and clenched the controls firmly. The mystery Saix just kept up next us. At six hundred miles an hour. No com-link window, no signals. Just the universal sign that when two fast zoids are next to each other, only one may prevail. In English, I'm gonna burn some rubber right into his slow-ass face, bitch.

"…three…two…"

"_**Now!"**_

I rammed the control handles forward and braced my midsection as the horizon lurched toward us and we charged into full sprint. Soon enough I was clinging to the control handles so we wouldn't wipe out, I would guess we had about 750 clocked on the meter. Jus a guess, after all when I coughed I didn't hear it. I didn't hear anything actually, once you break the sound barrier you literally are in a sound vacuum.

So here I was piloting for dear life, no sound, sweat pouring down my brow and guess who pops up in the corner of my twitching eye. Our little Saix friend. Same speed as us. Same movements, same pace. Well, I popped a hinged cover off a button on the right control handle and gunned it. I felt a vibration rock the cockpit, usually there was a dull roar of the boost kicking in, but we were too fast to hear it. The horizon blurred and I had to rely on bicep strength to hang onto the handles of my zoid.

Judging by the fact I could feel every vein in my sweat-soaked body pulse, I'm guessing we're close to 800. A new personal best. Well, I somehow knew that our buddy was up there next to us. Two minutes of full speed sprinting later I saw a panel flash, indicating a populated area was near. Well, I sighed mutely and eased back slowly toward my seat. Dropping ten miles a second until we were just power-walking through the packed-sand desert. I sighed, catching my breath and getting used to the sounds of the mortal world again.

"_**Eve…EVE! I'm coming to see ya!"**_

Psy had broken down panting, like he actually needed oxygen. I'm guessing him calling Eve was like saying he saw the pearly gates. I ignored this, staring out the side panel at the regular Saix that was mirroring our performance.

"…if those eyes were blue instead of yellow I'd say that was Cisco…"

"…_**then how come he didn't beat us?"**_

"Not su…Psy, you mean to say you're aware that Cisco could beat us?"

A pre-recorded grunt. I shook it off and stared back at the plain-looking Saix. It just kept walking next to us. Eventually my self-control broke and I banged my fist into the communication panel. I hailed the other cat zoid, and opened a hologram space. I had to see this guy's face.

The mystery pilot accepted and his image popped up in front of me as both Saixes slowed to a stop, barely a few hundred yards from each other. I let go of the sweat-slick control handles to cross my arms over my tee shirt-constricted chest. Before me floated the face of our challenger. He had a strong jawline, straight off of the comic book superheroes. His jaw floated up into thin but toned cheeks, rounding off into a flattened haircut. His chin and upper lip was covered in a salt and pepper goutee that accented his contrasted dark green eyes. Which currently cut into me calmly, like a stereotypical martial arts sensei with a better tan.

Above those cutting yet soft eyes was a gelled back head of black/white peppered hair cut to a decent length. Overall, in shape, clear of mind but seasoned with experience. And here he was staring at me like he was judging a piece of meat. I returned his gaze with a near-identical look. This went on for a few silent seconds before I cleared my throat.

"Well…"

He softened his glare slightly.

"…you're pretty fast…"

Yeah, we get that a lot.

"Back at ya. Must be heck in a standard Saix."

The head shifted its off-screen shoulders, shrugging.

"It's reliable enough."

I nodded slightly.

"…I thought you were going after an Ultimate X…"

The mystery pilot broke into a smirk. So did I. In fact the two cocked smiles were near identical, a learned trait.

"Trey, I got it."

I looked over my shoulder at the plain Saix, then back at my mentor's face.

"…Max, you ditch me at a public Hanger and leave me on my own for nearly a year, and come back with nothing but an LS Saix to show for it?"

Max broke into a soft laugh.

"Good to see you too, Kid."

Our rival glare had melted into a father figure catching up with his estranged son. Psy suddenly chose to make himself known.

"_**Dad! How ya doin'?"**_

Both student and teacher laughed at Psy's wisecrack.

"Well, my last zoid kind of attached itself to some punk who crashed in my old place."

Both Psy and I snorted at the same time, acting like twins addressing their father.

"Max, I get the fact you kept up with us but that's no Ultimate X."

My mentor raised an eyebrow with a matching smirk. Actually, I give that same look to people before explaining my zoid creations. Creepy. The teacher was about to stump the student.

"…check the ID number on my license data."

My eyebrows twitched as I shrugged and checked the screen showing his scan data. His license number was…blank.

"…Ho…Ly…"

He nodded sagely.

"…yep, it is."

I took a minute to take it all in then shook it off like a boxer after a knockout uppercut.

"…that's…_the_ Saix?"

I felt Psy jerk his head at the other zoid.

"_**WHAT!"**_

Max kept nodding.

"…the very same…"

"_**What the hell is going on!"**_

Max and I shared a look, I waved a hand.

"I got this."

I looked away from the hologram to address my zoid directly.

"Psy, that Saix there isn't a freak zoid or an evolution. That's the original Lightning Saix."

"…**_as in…the first one. Irvine's Saix…?"_**

Max and I nodded. Then I felt the cockpit bounce up and down, Psy was trying to blend in.

"_**Well…it's an honor to even be seen near that thing, let alone keep up with it."**_

Max's face looked over my shoulder, as if Psy were standing behind me and not all around me.

"Speaking of zoid honor, this thing is obviously alive. Won't give me a hint though. I figured I needed some psychology, and I happened to know a couple guys in this area who speak zoid."

I blinked.

"…um…you mean me or Psy?"

"…either way."

I shrugged, as did Psy. I took another glance at the relic of the Big War hat had just paced my zoid past the sound barrier. Max saw this and seemed a bit proud of his catch.

"…I found it in the storage room of a museum going out of business. My friend told me about it a few weeks before we left that little suburban hell. Took me a while to get it in paper though, when I wasn't trying to help me nephew through his neurotics I was on the line talking to the curator about it."

I nodded slowly, imagining the paper trail you'd have to rig.

"So did you have to restore it?"

The holo-head shook back and forth.

"It was in prime battle shape sitting in that storage room. Must have been there for years. Amazing, centuries old and it sill runs, even has that new car smell."

"…_**six decades."**_

My mentor and I just stared. Max asked before I could.

"…pardon?"

My zoid didn't seem amazed.

"_**He just corrected you, he said he was stuck in there sixty years after some private collector keeled over."**_

Max stared at me through the wireless hologram network, asking if his eyes if we were serious. I slowly nodded, telling him my zoid was partially sane. He rolled his eyes at himself and sighed.

"…well, that's exactly why I needed you two. Trey, you could try to update this thing a bit so the ZBC doesn't disqualify it for a technology clause. And eh…"

"…_**I go by Psy, short for Psyscho."**_

Max didn't seem reassured. His old, trusted zoid was now…eh…Psy.

"…Psy…I need you to just talk things out with this guy, bring him up to date on the times, convince him I'm a nice guy."

"…_**you mean tell him, it's not like a lying jerk would restore an old war clunker and get him to the big-time."**_

I went blank, as Max slowly cracked his aged face into an even smile.

"…yep, you're my zoid alright…"

I nodded, agreeing for a few seconds before he cut in again.

"…well, now you're still Chase Brand's zoid, just the younger one."

My solemn sensei burst out laughing like a college kid at my new nickname, I sat there and pulled my hat brim over my eyes. Psy laughed too. If only I could mute his speakers. These two go from heartwarming reunion to Max's college antics. By now everybody knows about Max's young days. He makes Team Reckless look like a bunch of girl scouts.

2 Hours Later

"…and this is where we expect the blades deployed."

Max examined the 3D model of the Negative Zero I'd drawn up on my desk screen. We were both standing next to each other, leaning toward my desk as there was a shortage of chairs. I was showing him my recent work as Psy dealt out his trade with the ancient Saix in the Hanger.

"…Trey, I honestly have no clue where you got this mechanical quirk…"

My eyes shot from my computer model to my blank-faced teacher. He had caught me like an uppercut with that remark. I simply told him what flashed into my head as a reflex.

"…you taught me everything."

Max kept looking at the model on the screen.

"…I taught you everything I know about piloting and zoids…but this engineer thing…I've never been able to even draw up a blueprint for a zoid."

I stared back at the model, not reacting.

"…Chase, you all here?"

I jerked my head slightly, shaking it off.

"Yeah…yeah, fine."

I felt his hand touch down on my shoulder as I kept staring at the model I knew I had memorized. But it wasn't the model I was examining, it was the reflection of myself in the screen.

Oak brown eyes shone out from under matching dark bangs that I needed to trim back. While I had a slightly thick jawline and strong, comic book reflecting features Max and I couldn't pass off as relatives. He was a good looking guy back in his prime, still is, in a more sophisticated way. I critiqued our reflections that hung over the Liger blueprint like a mountain range over a city. His weathered hand still rested on my shoulder.

"…this is a gift, Kid. You tell the press and your friends that you're just a student of mine. A prodigy at best."

I stayed silent, wondering what he was getting at.

"I didn't take you along in my life out of pity."

I turned to look at him, suddenly alert and responsive. Acually, i later found out I was defensive.

"Max, we both know I'm just some punk you molded after yourself. You pitied me out there. Took me in and helped me by giving me a role model."

Max returned my alert gaze, but his green eyes were flat with solemn doubt.

"…I took care of you because your parents didn't. That much is true."

I nodded in silent victory.

"I let you stay the days at my place so you wouldn't have to be hurt by them. I told you about zoids because one long day I wished for the old times. But you showed interest. You wanted to see them. Pilot one. And mixed in with the curiosity and determination was something else. You showed the ability to be a pilot."

I stared in silence. Now we had gone from leaning on my desk to standing before each other, shoulders back and backs straight in identical posture. This wasn't an argument. Or a lecture. In my case it was an awakening.

"Trey. You're not a charity case. You're not a piece of dirt I polished into a precious metal. You were the only good person in that town. A diamond in the rough. I didn't 'make' you like the press says. I found you."

I stayed stoic throughout his speech. Not a single reaction. I was a statue.

"…Max…one thing you should know about…"

He nodded, not realizing I was changing the subject.

"…it's Sarah."

1 Hour Later

I was perched on a ledge on the front porch of a very nice modern-designed house. It was a nice suburban neighborhood, dogs, kids, families. Just like the time I was invited into that house to talk zoids with the fans. Kids walked home from school as I sat cross-legged atop the small wall. The kids chatted with each other in groups with their slumping backpacks over one shoulder. Soon enough one walked on a beeline for this particular house, clad in average kid clothes, but his slicked down black hair making him stand out slightly. After he saw me sitting in front of his front door he ran up, dropping his backpack on the porch as he jogged up to see me.

"Uncle Trey! Mom was wondering why you guys didn't visit yet."

He stopped to catch his breathe, I smiled under my hat at the kid. Vega was now passing off as an average kid under a new name, and Sarah's ZBC-altered paperwork claimed she was a single mother who worked from home.

"Your long-lost grandpa finally came up here to see me. I brought him over here after a little race. I've been out here an hour, they're having a father-daughter reunion thing. It'll be a while."

After one final pant he began asking questions again like the kid he was, dark eyes smiling up at me on my stone perch.

"…Sarah's dad isn't mad at her anymore?"

I shook my head.

"Loneliness sorts out domestic issues very well. How about we go kill time until your mom wants you to meet Max?"

He agreed within a millisecond, flash forward a little and we've staked out a sunny spot near a tree in the park, the same park I saw when I was living in the Molga and fixing up the old Saix. Except now I was part of the picture instead of a lonely spectator, with my newfound nephew. I was doing one-armed push-ups on the grass, explaining to Vegas how to do them. After fifty reps I got up and admired the scenery on my knees for a few seconds.

"…you seem different."

I looked back at Vega quickly.

"Huh?"

He tilted his head a bit.

"…usually you're quiet. You're smart and kind of big, but you act like a little dumb guy."

I blinked at his metaphor. Actually, I did have a self esteem issue. You may have noticed the fact I'm a tad modest. To tell the truth, I have a have a rather serious complex concerning self image because of the child abuse thing. I think I'm a piece of dirt, really. Max's intervention today was chipping away at the bulk of that. While I'd changed the subject before I broke down in emotion, his act of concern was starting to boost my image to a healthy level. Now, how do I explain this to an eleven year old?

"…a girl said she liked my hat."

Author's Notes

This will be directly continued next chapter. And weird thing. I created Max as a new character, completely original. But for some reason I can't think of him and not picture Paul Newman. This is like 'The Color of Money' with Zoids. Heh, seriously, thanks for the reviews.


	43. Chapter 43

Disclaimer:See previous

Notes: Guys, sorry for the delay, and the length of this chapter. Eh...it's Spring Break. The next chapter will be 14 pages flat, and tomorrow I'll update my other unread fanfic for the heck of it.

"Now, watch what the little guy does here."

Vega stared attentively at the screen above the bar at the two boxers. The smaller one in the blue trunks, who was being pummeled against a corner stake, ducked down into his attacker's stomach and started pounding ribs. This caused the red-trunked tank to back up, and go for one more swipe. He missed, and left his fist hanging. The little guy swing around into his temple and ended the match via knockout. The referee held up the victor's glove as Vega shook his head in awe.

"Trey, you gotta teach me how to do that."

I smirked into my drink as I slid the pretzel bowl over to him on the aluminum bar-top.

"Vegas, stick to zoid fighting. It's safer. Your mom wouldn't let me teach you to box even if I tried."

He groaned, still talking to me while staring at the start of the next fight.

"But I'm tired of being the best at everything."

I blinked and tilted my eyes over at my nephew.

"What was that?"

He was digging into the pretzel bowl, his new haircut suited him. And he fact he ditched the life preserver vest helped him a lot.

"All people say is how good a pilot I am. It gets boring."

He tilted his head at me, probably confused by the way I was staring at him.

"Kid, you just said the secret phrase"

Right as he was about to ask what I meant a voice cut in, from the direction of the door to the sports bar we'd taken shade in.

"Chase! You teachin' my grandson to swear?"

I spun on my stool to see my teacher and mentor walking toward us with his arm around Sarah. Wow, they made up fast. I pulled my hat off and dropped it on the bar as Vega and I turned to acknowledge them. Sarah broke off from her father and sat down next to Vega, rustling his hair fondly before locking her pale eyes on me.

"…what _were_ you two talking about?"

Max took a seat on my other side, chuckling at his daughter like they'd rigged up a comedy act after being reunited after a dozen years.

"Trey, you better not give the kid any of that language you picked up out here."

Speaking of picking up things, Max's voice had changed tone. When I was growing up he always showed proper English, as did I before I discovered city life. Now he had a bit of a Southern drawl. He was down there a long time, he may have gotten a taste for 'taters and grits.

"Vegas wanted to learn how to box. Think he's in withdrawal about the Fury?"

Sarah nodded seriously at my rather non-serious joke. The Berserk Fury was in a private Hanger where he ZBC did research, several miles away from where their new identities lived. Once a week the kid biked over so he could talk to it. Yeah, he talks to it. I've never heard it talk back, I'm guessing he's the only one who an hear it. Psy must be a genius considering he speaks English. And some form of Spanish. Max draped an arm around me as Sarah quizzed Vega on how well I took care of him.

"Thanks for telling me about these two. I always wanted to be a grandfather, you just saved yourself a whole lot of work."

I raised an eyebrow, both of us were watching the boxing channel like moths to a flame while conversing. Eye contact is for pansies.

"So, how's it feel to be related to the King?"

I heard him shrug, his jacket made a folding noise that gave it away.

"Not much different than being related to you."

I brushed off his compliment and watched two cruiserweights square off. Our little family spent a few hours right along that bar, getting familiar with each other. Max and I talked about our zoids and piloting. Sarah and Max talked about what they'd been doing. Vega and I talked boxing glove color. Sarah and I discussed ZBC business. Max and Vega discussed which zoid attack makes the coolest noise. Oh, like your family is so functional.

At the end of the evening we all ended up back at the living room of the Killer Whale King. You know, the name was cool at first but now it sounds so forced. Team Reckless actually came out of their rooms and playrooms to sit with us and chat. Rax and Vega swapped Rock Paper Scissors strategies. Sue and Sarah did recipes. Max and Clara did the fangirl-movie star thing. I leaned over the intercom and talked with Psy.

…what the heck am I typing, right? You come here expecting murders, street racing and zoid battles and I'm having dinner parties. Well, this is a slow week. But a few things of interest. The day after all this elbow rubbing Max, Sue and I went to play cards at the Blitz Team Base. Yeah, they have card games.

7:30 PM

I struggled to keep my brow from twitching as I flicked my lowest card across the table to a tan fellow whose neck-length hair was pushed back by a classic green poker visor. Brad Hunter insisted he deal the cards, mercenaries always know the good shuffles. Sue was holding her own, Max was out first hand, and I was clinging to life by the laces of my boots.

I admit the Blitz Base was nice. Tons of old rooms, they must have bought out an old base and refurbished it for cheap. It was big enough to house their zoids and even the Hover Cargo, and even had a spare room that Hunter converted into a rather nice card room. We were having a nice long standstill game when somebody stuck their head through he doorway and yelled over to our host.

"Brad, any idea where Bit ran off to? I wanted to show him my design for the new top-secret Liger armor."

….top-secret…and he announced it in front of a bunch of bums a mercenary invited over for beer and poker. Brad grunted as he shuffled the pile Max had tossed him after losing.

"Check Leena's Lair for any fresh bones."

Apparently the man who I couldn't see from my place at the table was Doc Tauros. Thankfully he didn't recognize any of us. He was probably a great guy and all, but I hate fans who act like we're gods. We're not, we're very high-ranked demigods.

"Dangit. There's this cool-looking whale zoid sitting outside and I wanted to make a Liger armor that looked like it."

Now this made me drop my poker face and, my cards flaking out of my hands onto the green felt table. Hunter smirked at this, unseen to his employer.

"Why don't you walk inside it? I hear they have some nice zoids in there. It belongs to Team Reckless, they won't mind a trespassing copycat."

I wish I could see the Doc's reaction…

"…good idea!"

And the sound of a grown man running down the hallway like a kid off to see a playground fight. I stared at the visor-clad mercenary.

"…relax, Brand. He's harmless. He knows not to touch anything, and those fancy freak-zoids are a bit out of his league."

I stared a bit longer before being assured by his smug expression and going back to playing cards.

"So, why'd you remember us from your black book and invite us over?"

Hunter shrugged, shooting a pillar of cards between his hands.

"The Lightning Team is down East, and I remembered you guys from out in the desert those few times. Figured we could get aqainted."

Sue nodded behind her three cards, she was wearing her sunglasses, but they were sitting on the tip of her nose so instead of shading her eyes they just looked intellectual.

"Sounds good, Brad. But we're not hiring any new members."

Brad's face didn't move.

"…damn."

Max, killing time after his early defeat by twiddling his thumbs, chuckled.

"Well, you run a fine game. And a fine zoid, according to what I've seen."

The stoic Hunter actually blinked. He was being commended by Max Brand, who could keep their face still through that?

"Thank you…Sir!"

Max and I shared a hidden wink at the last-minute Sir. The game went on peacefully, I finally folded and it came down to the two mercenaries. As they split up my cards another head poked its way in, once again out of my vision range.

"Guys, Doc is skipping around that Whale King outside singing. We should get him out of their before the owners get back."

Brad stared. The voice sounded like that Wild Eagle guy. Except less psychotic.

"Jamie, the owners are right here. You remember Sue Ryder and Chase Brand Senior and Junior."

An awkward pause.

"…oh. Uh…hi. Didn't know you guys all knew each other."

I spun in my chair to face the flyboy pilot, whose hair was now spiked instead of flat. I adjusted my hat and smiled.

"Well, funny thing about that. I'm the original Chase Brand's adopted son. His biological daughter just got out of the Backdraft, and his grandson and my nephew is Vega Obscuras."

I watched the little guy's face go blank. He looked between Max and I, then between Sue and I as if he thought she were my second cousin.

"Um…wow."

With that he walked in and took a seat in on the corner of the mini-bar Hunter was building near the poker table he'd inherited from a bar that closed down.

"So, if you guys are in here whose out in that Whale?"

I counted off on my fingers as Sue and Brad went at each other's throats with diamonds and spades.

"Clara, Max's daughter Sarah, Rax, and Vega. They're staying with us for a while, as you know the ZBC has gone to a dead end and we're all bored out of our minds."

The fragile-built pilot nodded at the ZBC comment.

"We haven't had a battle in a while. You'd think they'd end the season early, we already had the Royal Cup mid-season."

Max grunted at our exchange.

"And some battle pilots do the Sectors in the off time, which the ZBC also runs. Why waste time sorting out teams every minute when you could take a break, do the Sectors then come back in six months with a full battle schedule?"

I snorted.

"Max, the ZBC President is some guy you had jello-shots with in college. Why not call him up and say that."

He guffawed, as much as a gentlemen can guffaw, at my sarcasm. While the mercenaries exchanged card shuffles we three pilots discussed current affairs. Then Doc ran through the doorway, holding Vega by the neck.

"GUYS! LOOK WHAT I FOUND! THIS KID LOOKS JUST LIKE VEGA!"

Blanks stares all across the board.

"I CAN SELL THIS ON zBAY!"

With that he dragged the kid out by the arm. Where…do I start…

"…like I said, he's harmless. Just a bit disorientated."

I nodded slowly, staring at the empty doorway.

"'Kay…"

Max and I slowly turned back to the table. Note to self, buy a gun.

The Next Morning

"…_**you even got into the cockpit?"**_

I nodded, loading the disc.

"_**Did it even growl?"**_

"Nah, I told it who I was and hat it could trust me."

Psy snorted, he was jogging into the sunset, I was relaxing and getting some work done. Now there's an oxymoron. Last night I had snuck away from the poker game and copied the data off the Liger Zero manually. It didn't seem to mind. Then again, zoids these days seem to know more than they let on.

"_**So how's that cut on your shoulder? The one you got in the shower with…"**_

See what I mean?


	44. Chapter 44

Remember that fully stocked gym I made? Well, it's still there. Every few weeks I add some new equipment, either some core strength machines, free weight plates, martial arts equipment or old fashioned boxing gadgets. I've been falling into a routine lately. Spend several hours in the garage working on a special zoid or in my room doing blueprints, sleep same amount of hours afterwards, then work out. Now, after a week of this I've gotten a lot of work done, I'm well rested and I moved up from bench pressing a station wagon to a small pickup. Nah, just kidding. Sport utility vehicle max.

Now, I spent a night redesigning my little Liger concept. Those manual measurements I got of the Liger Zero revealed an odd skeletal pattern. So I had to resize the doo-dads and whatchamadingers to match the whatta-whattas. Sue shot a dart into my neck around the twelfth hour, an after waking up I worked on the punching bags. I love my simple life.

So there I was upper cutting a plump round sack hanging at head level when Max, Sarah and Vega walked in with their arms around each other's shoulders. I don't get it either. They're really enjoying that whole family thing I guess, they keep walking around the Whale like that. Well, I ignored them and went back to my drills. They then walked back out, probably just touring the ship.

When I finally did fifty reps I turned, cracked my neck a couple times and walked over to the door while slipping off my gloves. I walked through the automatic and soundproof doors out into the dark-lit hallway, the lights were dim but the gym had windows built into the walls for viewing. So form out here I could look into the empty gym, but from the inside it's all just one huge mirror. Well, planted right in front of a window was the three member family. Jus watching the empty gym and chatting. Dear Eve, if that's a healthy family long like the orphanage system.

"Hey, inferior younger sibling, you teach my kid to do that and I'll personally put out a hit on you."

I grunted, tired as I walked toward them, they were blocking the way to the living area. Vega explained in the span of five seconds that they watched me work out. I said that was fine and edged past them to the kitchen and later to my room to shower and change. Soon enough I was sketching away another blueprint. But before I fell into my eternal cycle my little ZBC PDA made a little noise. I plucked it off my bed and saw it was an email alert.

'Brand

Taking you up on that offer. We need two fast zoids for a party battle. Your Saix came to mind, and we saw a clip of your new Wolf zoid. If you accept you'll each get a cut. Free food. You in?

Chris Tasker'

I read over the short message a few times before getting the point. I walked out to the living room and called into a clump of people, who ever the heck was living in this thing with us.

"Clara! You and the Shadow up for doing a battle with the Lightning Team?"

Her voice called back out of the group. I didn't actually see her in detail, my head was aimed toward a little pad of sketch paper I was holding as I stood there.

"I'll have to practice speeding a bit, but sure, sounds fun."

I nodded and walked back into my room without a word to the rest of them.

'Chris

We'll have to work a bit with you guys to blend in, but we're in. Just send the time and place. Speaking of which, where do you guys sleep at night anyway?

Trey (Chase)'

I tapped the send symbol and soon resumed my blueprint marathon. Psy found out from Clara about the battle, he didn't have any objections. I took some time to examine the Shadow Wolf a bit more, seeing if I could modify anything for speed. Normally I'd be checking guns or blades. But we were going to be running with the Lightning Team, and I didn't want this zoid being left behind. The next day Clara and I trekked into the desert in our respective zoids to some coordinates in the middle of the desert to meet the Taskers and Cisco.

As we sped over a sand dune I expected to see a high-tech transport or a isolated base. Well, there were just three high-end Lightning Saixes sanding in the middle of the packed-sand plain. As we approached we were hailed into a group com-link.

"Brand, nice to see you and your zoid again."

"Especially the zoid."

I felt he cockpit tremble as Psy silently chuckled at the Taskers' remark. I kicked the side panel and responded.

"Hey, it's good to be with my own kind."

A visual link was activated and I was faced with a hologram of Clara, Chris, Kelly and a glaring bandana-clad head that I'm guessing was Cisco. Our zoids had formed a loose circle, all facing the others for organization sake. Clara's head mimed looking around as she spoke to the group.

"I feel a bit out of place here. Four cats and a wolf?"

Cisco, having not looked in my direction yet, smirked.

"We saw what your zoid can do to a speed demon. And if our reputation betrays us, our opponent may draft some fast zoids to keep up."

I finally acknowledged my almost-rival.

"Who you guys up against?"

The little Cisco head spun to look at me. We locked eyes for a moment, then he warmed slightly and responded.

"Harry Champ."

I stared, this time in confusion.

"…that guy?"

The three Lightning heads nodded. Kelly explained.

"It's a publicity challenge. We know for sure he and his two robots are in the fray. That leaves two mystery pilots."

I nodded to the group of heads slowly, the gears in my head swinging back and forth slightly.

"…ya' think he's thick enough to bring his sister?"

Chris raised an eyebrow.

"…she's been in a high class for a while…but an Iron Kong?"

Cicso closed his eyes and shook his head.

"Champ is addicted to raw power. Brand has a point, he'll call her in just for the sake of having a Kong."

Clara, usually the shy one, actually chipped into the discussion.

"If she is in there, I can test out the sniper in this thing."

The Lightning Team spun their neckless heads to stare at Clara. Kelly just kind of blinked a few times, as if trying to comprehend that.

"…that thing is a speedster, _and has a sniper!_"

The shadow Wolf reared back suddenly, and lunged forward into thin air, revealing the large barrel protruding from between its jaws. Cisco whistled.

"See, Chris? And you two wanted the Flugel Team."

This made me cock an eyebrow right through the center of my forehead.

"…you guys passed up Toros and Flugel for _us_!"

…the two Tasker twins nodded sadly. I snorted in disbelief.

"Man, and Max always told me you can't go insane from breaking the sound barrier too often."

The Taskers guffawed, Cisco even softened his little straight-mouthed, 24/7 all purpose facial expression. Well, after the little strategy panel we all started practicing. Well, that's what they calledit. More like being in an extremely tight formation that would be hell to keep close if we WEREN'T breaking the sound barrier shamelessly. Amazingly enough, the Shadow Wolf managed to stay close behind us. So a gang of cats speeding ahead of a slightly slower but deadly canine. I wish Eve made a mouse zoid we could torment so we don't have to molest the sound barrier like we do.

Now, you may wonder how speed teams work. You may have noticed that the Lightning Team always sticks in a tight little group. Well, by using tight formations they use physics to achieve extremely high speeds that you can't get alone. And you thought they picked me because I was a good pilot? HA! Nah, it's all the zoid. This was going to be a semi-easy battle, but he Lightnings remembered that standstill we had and wanted to use me as a nitro boost.

A couple hours of formation work and acceleration drills later we crawled back to our transport, Psy was panting, and the Shadow Wolf was showing signs of energy loss. And you know how Saix cockpits heat up at high speeds? Well, my hat was the only thing I was wearing during sprint runs. I'm okay with nudity, but the hat stays on. Oddly enough I doubt Lightning even bothers getting dressed every day, I stop to slice some legs off once in a while, those guys should too. You shouldn't run a zoid like that. Then again, if you strapped blades onto those Saixes I'd worry for international affairs.

As we collapsed in the living room Sue walked by wearing an apron over her freakishly thin midsection. I had stripped of f my shirt a hundred miles ago, not caring that my scars were visible. Yet Sue stopped to look at my hideous back.

"Hey, is that the cut you got from the shampoo rack in the shower?"

I grunted. She nodded.

"…yeah, Psy's cameras have zoom now."

I grunted slightly higher. She responded as followed.

"Yeah, the cookies will be done in ten minutes."

And she walked into the kitchen, Clara stared not at my freakish scars but at my little grunt-chat.

"…Clara, we've been living together so long we don't have to bother using English to communicate anymore."

She was about to ask what that meant when an African War Cry was heard from the west wing. I yelled back.

"Rax! I told you to just tape the toilet seat so it doesn't fall down!"

He responded in a series of clicking sounds. Sue made a birdlike noise from the kitchen, making a wisecrack.

"Agreed. You'd think he'd stop yelling after the fourth time."

Clara was sill confused, but she let the matter drop.

"You guys are freaks."

I smirked.

"Give it a week."

The intercom clicked in.

"_**One of us….one of us…one of us…"**_

She laughed and trudged off to shower, I just stayed on the couch for a while, struggling to move my legs. You have to press the floor in sprint formation, do the math.

Three Days Later

Our bar patron for now will not be in a bar. He just purchased a half-wall sized media screen and has invited most of his associates to enjoy a classic foreign film. And directly afterwards, the battle they've been dreaming of for months. Trey Brand working with Team Lightning. And they even threw in the Shadow Wolf. And they're going against a team that has only been in S Class for a week, and the opinion of the free press and the intelligent public is that that moron belongs in F Class, where they send all the rejects.

Champ got into S Class suspiciously close to when he Blitz Team got in. It's painfully obvious he's been making donations and paying off officials so he can stalk the Blitz Team. And the rich-boy complex was a bit much. Every other battle he had a new zoid, he ditched the Dark Horn months ago. Well, we could deal with all this, but that 'Destined to be King' line just sealed his fate. He says it every interview. Every commercial. And over the audio of every, single battle.

Well, the pre-battle show is better than the entire foreign film. The patron gets his friends refreshments as they profile the new Champ Zoids. When he gets back with the beers and nachos his friends are laughing their heads off. The Champ himself and his robots are in Lightning Saixes! All three painted totally white! Hey, the best way to take on a zoid is by buying an identical one with no experience using it. Well, Champ also hired a few more pilots for this one. His sister in her Iron Kong. Painted white. And some guy in a Command Wolf. White. Well, as the Judge dropped down the five white zoids elegantly walked out of a Whale king onto the flat battlefield. Then there was a sonic boom as four shadows appeared before them, the wind catching up a second later and blowing a dust cloud around the four cats and the wolf. Well, looks like Brand and that Sectors Gal learned a thing or two from Lightning.

The two stared each other down, night and day finally calling each other into a street fight. The Judge called the battle rules as the Reckless Lightning Team hunched into a tight group. The judge tossed down one hand…

5 Seconds Later

…and then he pulled it back after throwing it down, before it reached his waist the audience saw white command wolf topple sideways onto the wreckage of the other Champ zoids. The Lighting guys…hadn't moved from their spot. The viewers just stared. Complete metal carnage, and they hadn't even lasted the Judge Speech. Right as the Judge finished speaking, he sighed and declared the winner. The black zoids disappeared, now just radar speck on the horizon as the network replayed the entire battle in super slow motion. Eh…it just shows the white zoids going from perfect to junk in a single frame. We think the little black blur the camera catches is the Shadow Wolf running. Well, that was…short…one sided…plotless…and freakin' awesome. The network suddenly cut to the burnt-looking Harry champ, standing on the wreckage mountain and screaming at the sky.

"…destined to be king!"

Then the network received a live audio message from the other team as they left the area. It was a hundred mile battlefield, so much for a long-range battle. The sound of Jack Cisco's voice filled the network's systems.

"The King is Dead…"

And then the sound of Chase Brand, in the same tone.

"…Long Live the King."

And the sound of the three female members laughing like banshees as the transmission faded out, the viewers imagine how fast they must be going into the rising sun. And the bar patron officially throws the best parties.

…no, I'm serious. That's what happened. I'm very serious. What's that? You want to know how we ran around the entire area in a quarter second before tearing them apart using Psy's blades at a speed that my instruments couldn't measure, while the Shadow Wolf, riding on our tail wind took out the remaining parts? Sorry, it's a secret.

But what do you think of the nickname 'The Reckless Lightning Team'? Catchy but corny, huh? Well, the media went wild with it the next day. Some tabloids said we were officially associated with each other as a brother-sister team system. Eh, we were good friends but if I see one more person squat in this transport I'm going to move to the mountains and be a hermit. Clara and I worked with them, learning their techniques as they did ours for those four days before the mayhem.

But allow me to cut to five minutes after the 'battle'. The scene, an oak paneled room in a luxurious ranch-style house sitting atop a tall canyon, the bottom of the crag had several doors in it that led to the underground Hanger. And in this little mansion atop the peak, we all stood playing billiards and discussing the finer points of cue chalk. No alcohol. No 'We barely made it!', not even a 'You see how I ripped that off?'. The Lightning Team celebrated with class. They did this even before they had a credit to their name.

I'd go into detail about all that happened at their base, but it's not a matter of entertainment. I'll cut again to Clara and I arriving home late that night and waking up in the morning to the tabloids declaring us the new Lightning Team members. Dear Eve, talk about wishful ranting.


	45. Chapter 45

DISCLAIMER: I don't own anything coyrighted. Just a warning, not much zoids in this chapter. Mostly Trey and his life. Next chapter, all zoids, I promise

"…and don't tell your mom about this."

"You said that six times."

…no, I wasn't teaching Vega about the birds and the bees. It's way worse than that. We were in a urine-smelling, old brick warehouse that had been gutted and turned into a well-run and successful boxing gym. Think the attic of an old factory. Wooden floors, no interior walls except for a door on one end, and floor to ceiling windows around the perimeter, surrounding everyone in natural light.

The floor was covered in sections of equipment, each section occupied by folks who were obviously boxers. And here I was in my usual jacket-less outfit while everyone else was in sweat-soaked tanks and shorts. Actually I blended in pretty well. Vega, clad in a tee shirt and shorts, also looked just as blue collar as everyone else. I had my hands wrapped in black hand-wraps, Vegas was barehanded and watching everyone else with curiosity and awe.

"Let's find the bags and I'll start you on square one."

We walked casually through the rows of fighters in training, eventually finding a beam dripping in hanging heavy bags. I reached into the gym bag I carried and pulled out some smaller but extra thick bag gloves, tossing them to my off-guard nephew. He blinked at the old leather mitts and slipped them on, walking up to the green bag I'd chosen for him. I stood next to him, facing the bag.

"Now, before you even start punching you have to promise me something."

He nodded, not asking what.

"…self defense only."

He stared a few seconds, then looked at the gloves I had lent him.

"…will do."

I smirked, looked back at the bag and automatically swung my wrapped fists to chest level, took a stance and threw my forward left hand into the bag in a wicked, but small jab. It barely looked like a slap, but the bag shot back a few feet before swinging back, I caught it with my other hand. I turned to see my nephew staring blankly, his black pupils darting between the bag and me.

"…it's called a left jab. And it's going to be your first punch."

His expression slowly shifted from blank and amazed to something else. He smirked up at me, his eyes now glittering with an eager to learn. I smirked back down at him, eager to teach.

2 Hours Later

We walked out of the warehouse laughing, me unwrapping my hands and tossing the cloth into my bag as he slipped off his gloves and handed them to me. I put them away and commented.

"You're a quick learner, next time I'll show you how to use your stronger arm."

He whistled as we walked down an uptown block, cars buzzing by.

"Trey, I'd kill to be any of the guys in there. Even one of those girls."

I snorted as we approached a crosswalk.

"Well, avoid the women, stick to the bag and maybe I'll give you some gloves to do this on your own."

I explained this was a right of passage deal, the gloves symbolized being an independent fighter. He shrugged and crossed the street, not old enough to understand that emotional crap yet.

28 Hours Later

"_**Congratulations…"**_

I grunted, wiping sweat and grease off my head as I limped over to the nearest chair. Behind me, was the new Liger armor, displayed on a skeletal Liger Zero shaped frame. I finally found a chair, and fell forward onto it, exhaustion wearing down all my nerve endings. I slumped over the chair for a minute or so before trying to walk again. As I struggled to my feet my blurry vision revealed a dark-colored blur in the middle of all the gray and silver blurs.

"…how long have you been in here?"

I grunted, my tongue too numb to move. I heard a clucking sound and I felt like I was being lifted, and that I was moving. This went on for a while when I felt my shirt being peeled off, and my back was pressing into something soft. My bed?

"…thanks…Clara…"

"…you were in there for more than a day straight…and the way you work…"

A nervous sound.

"Trey, get some sleep. You look like hell. And for the next few days you're staying in the living area."

I grunted, my eyes had closed because holding my eyelids was too much work.

"You finished that armor thing, give yourself a break."

I think she kept talking, but I had already passed out. I had literally worked myself into the ground. I woke up around twelve hours later. I had to let my eyes adjust to the presence of light, but when I did I saw I was in my jeans and socks, my greasy shirt was on the edge of the hamper lid. I stretched for a while before getting a long shower and putting on some fresh clothes. Right as I went to go to the hanger I remembered Clara helping me the night before.

I sighed, falling back onto the bed, pressing a button so it rolled into a couch, and turning on a media screen to catch up on my movie knowledge. I let myself settle into the couch, finally recovering physically from the marathon. Right as I regained the feeling in my feet I felt something hit the pillow next to me. I turned to see a wrapped candy bar, my favorite kind. I smiled weakly, taking it with one hand and looking up to thank who ever threw it.

….standing in my doorway was a very, very dark skinned female dressed in loose scarves and a tunic. This was fashionable this time of year, so it was her skin color that caught me off guard. I'd never seen some one with that skin tone. Well, then my mind came back from the bathroom, zipping up its fly and screaming who that was.

"…Eve?"

She nodded, walking up to my couch and sitting down, right on my outstretched feet. I just stared, forgetting what movie I'd been watching. She looked around my room as her melodious voice echoed against the bare walls.

"…got a memo. You finished the Torment?"

The Liger Zero Torment armor that had nearly sent me to the emergency room…

"…what, was I behind schedule?"

She suddenly broke out into a deep, husky laugh. She smiled at me before turning to look at my little green Liger model.

"Actually you were supposed to just build it when things went off the frying pan."

I leaned up suddenly.

"…what?'

She reached one slender, dark arm over and flicked me back onto my pillow.

"You made it a long while before we need it. And you were just supposed to copy the Hailstorm platform."

I glared, but didn't react.

"…do you have to take every design and make it better? Seriously?"

"…those blades _needed_ homing lasers, alright?"

She sighed and closed her eyes.

"And to top off the cake you did it within a day from scratch. Clara was right. I'm putting you on vacation."

Now this got me ramrod straight, sitting up and staring at her.

"Vacation? From what?"

She sat up, freeing my legs. I tilted them under me, sitting normally as she walked over to my mantle and returned to the couch holding my Liger model. She examined it between her near-black hands as she went on.

"You did your part in the Liger Zero X ordeal. They'll pick up the slack down at the ZBC, you get back to your battles and playing Zoid Doctor."

I slowly nodded, figuring this could work. I'll take some medication to keep off the workaholism.

"And good work with Vega. Poor kid needed some fun, and he sure loves…what's the thing with the gloves again?'

I blinked. The heck, a non-blonde Goddess drawing a blank?

"Boxing."

She nodded and went on.

"Just keep it easy. I came in person so you'd get the message. And my email server is on the fritz."

I just shrugged and let her keep talking. She set down my Liger model on the end table and turned her head to examine my watching face.

"…and one last thing. You're harmless addiction just got you some time off. But there's a bonus. I'm in a good mood. You have one request."

I raised an eyebrow.

"…you mean one wish, or can you play music now?"

She glared, white teeth glinting from her dark face.

"…zoid related…I'm not a genie."

I sighed, leaning back and noticing the movie on the wall was freeze-framed.

"I honestly haven't thought…"

She stood up and started walking to the door.

"Granted."

I spun my head.

"What!"

She opened my door and turned to look one last time before leaving.

"…I already know what you were going to wish for, and it's granted."

She then turned and walked out, my door sliding closed after her. The room filled with sound once again as the media screen continued the movie. Then I heard my team mates down the hall, talking. I'm guessing she muted everything while we spoke. After pinching several parts of my body to make sure this wasn't a dream, I continued watching the movie. Did I mention my life is messed up?

…don't ask what I wanted to wish for. I didn't wish for anything, she more or less stated she made it for me. Great, now I have to watch out for something that I'm not aware even crossed my mind. But hey, I got a candy bar out of it. I picked it up and pulled back the wrapper, a bit hungry after a twelve hour coma. Then I noticed the colored foil seal had already been opened. I pulled back the loose wrapping to see the end has been cleanly cut off, leaving me three quarters of the bar. She had eaten part of it.

"…oh, now she's just messing with me…"

6 Hours Later

I was half-awake on my bed/couch, fresh from my last meal and watching my favorite zoids show on the series recording. During the opening credits of episode 43 my door slid open and in walked my eh…what was it, sister? Well, Sarah walked in. In casual clothes, strangely enough. No dark pilot uniform, no formal suit. Blouse and slacks. No belt even. Her hair had grown a bit, now tucked into a clip. She nodded at me as a greeting and sat down at my desk.

"…I took Vega to a boxing gym."

I smirked, turning to look at her.

"Did he beg you?"

She sighed.

"Actually, he never mentioned it. I just wanted to teach him a lesson."

So she wanted him to realize it hurt and to give it up. She kept on with her story.

"I watched him warm up with the bags and everything, he's your nephew alright. Then I saw some kid a about his size in headgear and Vegas asked if he could spar."

I widened my eyes. She…let him spar? I didn't want him doing that for a few weeks!

"…how bad did he lose?"

She smiled slightly.

"He kept up with jabs. But he was outmatched, the other kid won no contest."

I sighed. Great, he'd probably give it up now.

"…after they finished he shook hands with the other kid and said it was fun."

I stared at my adopted sister, looking for any signs of drugs.

"…say that again?"

She did. I stood straight up, pacing the room in a start.

"He…he had fun in there?"

She nodded.

"You did this today, right? He'll be sore tomorrow."

She nodded again.

"Trey, he was loving it in there. Maybe I'll drop him off a few days a week, let him make some friends."

I nodded as I went back and forth in my pace, saying that was safe. The gym had been closer to our Whale, which was at the Hanger due to Lake problems, and she took him here to shower and have dinner. We had gotten along fairly well as siblings. I even knew her last name! It's…okay, we have no clue about each other.

"Chase, did you teach him anything behind my back?"

I froze in mid-pace and choked on air.

"…just to jab?"

She harrumphed in triumph, and left my room silently, smacking me in the back of the head as she did so. I winced and rubbed the sore spot.

Well, Vegas has the knack after all. He got his rear handed to him with a card attached and he was a great sport. The only way to get better it to lose. That's the way it was to me, child beating and all. I fell back onto my couch, the walking had gotten me tired out. It'd be days before I healed from the armor-welding marathon.

Things went normally until about midnight. I was alssep when there was a knock. I looked up to see Vega, in his nightclothes in my doorway. He was holding something.

"..Vegg? What's going on?"

He held up what he was holding, it looked like two round hands hooked wih velco.

"Uncle Trey, you left your gloves in my room."

He was holding the gloves I'd lent him when I gave him his first lesson.

"…you awake? Don't you want them back?"

I yawned and smirked at the short shadow figure.

"They're not mine to want back. Keep 'em, Kid."

He silently nodded and walked out, seeming a bit taller.

Okay, maybe he did understand all that emotional crap.I smiled and went back to bed. Then I heard the intercom making a sniffling noise.

"Psy?"

Another sniffling noise.

**_"So beautiful..._**"

And he broke down crying, clicking out, leaving me wide awake. I was scared now.

Author's notes

Sorry for everything.My late chapters, the lack of zoids, everything. You see, I've been held up with another project. In case you haven't noticed from my other chapters, I'm a boxer. And my friends begged me into writing a series of articles and stories that teach newbies about boxing. And I knew when it seeped into my fanfics I needed a break. For the next few days I'm taking a short rest, I'll be writing for this fic but won't update until I have a good stock set up. Thank you for reading, more zoids next chapter, and if you want keep posting custom zoids ideas.


	46. Chapter 46

DISClAIMER: I don't own anything mainstream copyrighted, but I own all original characters, designs and concepts in this story.

Author's Notes: We're back to zoids. Finally. The next few chapters will feature some singles battles to spice things up a bit. Enjoy.

Today I was summoned to the ZBC registration building. I got a message two days in advance, Sue flew the Killer Whale and air-dropped me and Psy near the town limits . I parked the zoid, told him not to pick up any women while I was gone, and walked into the plain-looking office building.

A lonely elevator ride later and I was in the private office of a spectacle-clad fellow who was talking to his wife on the phone and typing an article about blade weapon restrictions, judging by the mirror behind his desk. I sat in the guest chair patiently until he noticed I was consuming oxygen three feet in front of him. He snapped the phone shut and smiled at me in greeting, I tipped my hat in reply.

"Trey Brand. Like I wouldn't recognize you after al the coverage."

I smirked and shrugged lightly, not the bragging type.

"I called you here about your individual point scoring."

I nodded, I knew the concept. They kept track of individual pilots in battles for records and comparison purposes.

"…you've accumulated enough to qualify for S Class."

I studied his face for a few silent seconds.

"…you mean my team did."

He shook his head quickly.

"No, no, I meant you're qualified to join an S Class team or compete in the singles matches."

"…you mean I could moonlight that while running Team Reckless."

The office guy looked a bit confused.

"…no, it means you can transfer to a better team."

By now I was fully alert of what he was talking about. I leaned back, exposing my eyes out from my hat brim to see him clearly.

"Am I the only Reckless pilot to get this far?"

He spun in his chair and tapped a button at his keyboard. A second later he had a spreadsheet running.

"Your personal feats have ranked you higher than the other three. They're very good pilots but between your Sector's cleanout and your battle record, you're out of their league."

"You people haven't assigned us a real battle in ages."

He sighed at this.

"The market shifted to one-on-one matches. We haven't had time to organize the four-ways."

I rolled my eyes.

"Now we find this out."

He nodded, sympathizing and he looked at the spreadsheet again.

"While you're here, let's just resign you from Team Reckless to save time."

1 Hour Later

All three of the pilots I'd brought together as a team were lined up on the couch, I was pacing in front of the coffee table as they stared in confusion. Clara looked at me with wide, sharp eyes.

"You turned down an S Class offer to stay with us."

I shrugged, still pacing without looking at them. Sue pitched in.

"Why haven't we gotten enough points to get there as a team?"

I stopped pacing to think for a moment before replying.

"…our kind of battles aren't the fad."

Rax groaned.

"We haven't had a good one in weeks."

I nodded slowly, still deep in thought. Sue scoffed.

"When I was on my own my singles record was going up every week!"

I spun on my heel like I'd been shot, looking at the couch line-up.

"…what?"

Sue stared, wondering if I had taken that as offensive.

"I said stats went better when I was alone."

I took a moment to examine each of their faces in turn.

"…you guys…"

They stared, waiting for me to finish.

"…before I even got you together you were holding singles records…"

They all nodded or shrugged, not calling me a liar. Sue's mercenary matches had given her a reputation. Rax, well, he was Rax. Clara's Sector's record had carried over to the battle scores. As had mine.

"I'm not leaving you idiots for S Class. I'm not going near those team unless you three are with me out on the field."

Blank stares. Geez, these guys need to watch more football movies. I sighed and face-palmed myself slowly.

"…how about you three do singles battles, rack up enough points until we can all move up a class?"

They kept staring for a few more seconds before nodding slightly, not closing their eyes. Why did I hire these guys again? I waited until they all got the idea before retiring to the Hanger and reciting my plan to Psy, who was stretched out on his stomach in a sunray.

"_**Kind of sounds boring. You spend all your time working on their zoids and drilling them. I spend my days waiting for my battery to go dead so I can have a little peace."**_

I was sitting cross-legged on a console, eyes closed as we spoke.

"I'm pretty sure zoids don't die."

"_**No kidding. I was in a sate of constant, searing pain for a few weeks after I got torn up. Max had to stabilize me before he shut down my circuits, we heal faster the less energy we use."**_

So Psy knew what it was like to feel pain. I stared at the back of my eyelids, wondering if he'd ever wished for sweet death during those rough years. You know, the fact this zoid talks could probably open up a whole new field. I'd learned enough from him in the eight months or so that I'd known him, that I probably knew things about zoids that even the ZBC has yet to theorize.

"You mean you can accelerate healing by resting?"

"_**Yep. Max always let me stay home from school after I had a bad day. I was right as rain in no time."**_

…you know, screw that. This cat is an idiot. So what if accelerated regeneration via inactivity is only an urban legend at the time, his sense of humor gets on my nerves. I stopped pretending to meditate to scratch my arm.

"So how's the zoo adjusting to inactivity?"

An electronic sigh.

"_**The main zoids are bored as heck. But your little creations…"**_

He batted a paw at my ZBC creations, he was lying on his back now like a lazy Siamese cat.

"_**You know your team mates take them for joy rides at night, right?"**_

"I encourage them to, kind of. But I tell them not to. Zoids need exercise, and those guys feel the need to break rules. Two birds, one bullet."

"_**HA! Well, your unholy children of metal are doing fine. Rax's Liger has been getting cramps from those canyon runs."**_

I spun on my perch to look a Rax's dormant, possibly sleeping Slash Liger.

"…must be the shock absorbers in the paws connecting with the blade studs…"

"_**Probably. Clara's old Blade Liger is complaining about its paint job."**_

I turned to look at the aquamarine cat that held a special place in me memory as the first zoid I'd laid eyes on. Its custom paint job had faded from sunlight exposure, more of a faint yellow now. I made a mental note to send it through our detailing cage, it could use something to cheer it up after the Shadow Wolf came along.

In fact, that reminds me. Soon enough Team Reckless would come to their senses and realize this was going to kick ass. You see, my team had astonishing single records before I met them. All using regular, or even inferior zoids.

Rax was going from a borrowed Rev Raptor, to a custom-built and evolved Slash Liger. Sue, a well crafted Snipe Master to an unholy Geno Saurer of the dead. Clara, a loyal Liger to a speedy and agile wolf. Haven't they even though of the revenge they could get on old rivals?

"_**Well, that's all about he zoid crap. You getting enough sleep?"**_

It'd been two days since I collapsed from the armor marathon, I was still a bit under the weather but I could function.

"Why do you ask?"

"…_**my cameras keep track. You haven't been resting much for a guy who couldn't walk for a while."**_

I just raised an eyebrow at the giant cat that was criticizing my health.

"**_And those bags under your eyes are a bit of a tip-off."_**

I managed not to wince.

"_**Get to your room and get some rest."**_

I glared, hopped off the console and walked out of the auditorium-sized room into the air-conditioned hallway. Speaking of AC, I'm working on it. About a quarter of the inner hallways have activated climate control, and I managed to get our rooms cooled down during the day. The problem with this elaborate, fancy transport was Eve hadn't developed a control system. It's taking a while to learn the protocols.

The temperature in this desert area had risen to about ninety degrees at night. In fact there was a draught, the lake level had fallen so we couldn't dock down there where it was nice and cool. Thankfully this huge rubix cube of a Whale King was air-cooled and not water-reliant.

I walked out of the darkened hallway into the living area and straight to my room. I remember how we used to use official terms. The dining area. Rec Room, our individual quarters, utility space. Well, now this living are had turned into a full blown household, and we all had rooms. We had a few spares arranged for when Sarah and Vega made appearances.

As I wandered into my assigned room and collapsed onto my bed from prolonged exhaustion and just from the heat I tried to remember my room back in the desert.

I remember an old wooden-floored closet with a window, a bed against the wall and a box of clothes. It was next to the kitchen, so in the morning I woke up to the smell of bourbon being mixed by my mother and coffee by my once respected father. I used to have to hide my toys or personal objects. My three legged liger model was under a loose floorboard, along with whatever money I could scrounge up and maybe some emergency food for when I wasn't allowed to eat.

And here I was in my own place, double-sized room with a stocked kitchen down the hall. The only smells I woke up to nowadays were pancakes, eggs and bacon. We all believed in traditional meals. It took me a while to get used to the freedom. Eating when I was hungry, asking for directions and even talking to people in bars. Back there those things got you hurt.

I stripped off my outer layers and laid back on the couch, the climate control cooling the room so it felt like a cool autumn breeze. I drifted into half-sleep as my thoughts kept drifting back to the place I could never call home. Right as I flashed back to the old beatings he com rang.

"Trey?"

It was Sue's voice. When I first met her it was sharp, cocky but assuring. Now it had become softer, but retained the old charm.

"Yeah…?"

"Just wanted to thank you for putting the AC in the Reaper after you spent an hour cooling off our rooms."

I stared at my ceiling, thankful she couldn't see my expression.

"Sure, no problem."

She clicked out, I sighed and shook my head.

People kept thanking me for things.

The other day I'd gotten a few messages from some new Liger owners. One of them said it had saved his family's ranch by cutting the transport costs in half when they hit a rough spot. He said my invention had given his grandchildren the family legacy to look forward to. The guy had included some picture attachments, his family and their new Liger, the ranch logo they added to it later on, and a child's drawing of a blue cat saving their house from several evil dollar signs. It had been drawn by the man's youngest grand daughter.

I printed out all three pictures and clipped them over my desk. I wrote him a reply saying I wasn't the one to thank, but I included a credit number that when cashed in at a dealer, would give them another Liger free of charge. On me. What, did you think I was in this for the money?


	47. Chapter 47

DISCLAIMER: See previous entries

Our bar patron gets the day off. You see, because I'm taking a trainer approach and watching the battles in person, I can directly do a play-by-play. The bad side is that you'll find out what I do while I watch battles on a media screen. Enjoy.

First, we cut to me sitting at my desk watching a live battle play out on the screen on the desktop. I'm scribbling notes every few seconds on a piece of napkin and watching the counter scroll by. They have a new feature you can order on pay per view, a bunch of little gauges and meters on the sidebar that shows individual points and other bits of minor data. The battle itself is a minute away from finally finishing.

The screen is a window into an abandoned, battle-leveled city from Olden Times. The center of the old downtown area now houses a Judge Capsule. The robot is peering out of his cage in the direction of the setting sun, where the cameras catch two shadows dancing against each other in the waning light. For a second they're shapeless, two obscure holes in the orange horizon. The angle changes, and they are revealed as having the shapes of two beasts of old. The left-bearing figure resembles a dark-scaled dinosaur bearing a rack of weaponry across its flank.

The camera swaps sides, and now the focus is on the other saurian. This one appears leaner at first glance. Then it sinks in, it is a skeleton. It is a mirror of death next to its opponent. Exposed ribs and vertebra mark its back, sporting two bare frames of wings. Its shoulders flaunt two smaller heads, mouths gaping with fangs, while the center skull is mounted atop a bare spine. One of the spare heads erupts a green burst of light from its mouth, and the mystique is gone.

These are not two predators fighting for territory. They are two robotic vehicles in the molds of a Geno Saurer and its skeletal variation. The exposing blast flies the distance between them and connects with the chest of the more life-like creature. The blast sends it back a few steps, but it quickly regains its position. When the beast shifts its jets to move back, it reveals its true colors. Not the purple hue some parts of it retain, but the fact it is covered in open gashes of circuitry and the paint covering its steel has been burned off. It doesn't advance as it regains its balance. I stays where it is, even from the outside of the zoid it's obvious the pilot just wants to give up.

On the other side of the slowmoving showdown, the skeleton stands ready. The light from above the camera sheds some focus on its bone-like armor. It has gone from dull, yellowed ivory to a filthy black and brown. It is covered in the oil of its soon to be downed rival, and possibly the leakage of its own hidden wounds. It stands still as the other one walks back up to its perch.

Why are they just standing there and occasionally firing a shot? They're tired. Judging by my watch they've been at this for four straight hours. The first was nothing but a knife fight, slashes and bites all over. Soon they were both in critical condition and resigned to going a safer route, using the cavalry-level armaments on Genos to try and blow away the other. Well, that made it even worse. Between the sudden dodging exercises and glancing hits they dropped into even worse condition. By now both Sue and the challenger are trying not to pass out.

My eyes slide over to the pay-per-view meters. They have a little chart listing the core temperature of each zoid. Both the Geno Reaper and the modified Geno are showing core temps of two hundred degrees. Now, this would translate to cockpits hotter than a hundred and ten Fahrenheit. That's why this battle has become slow-paced, they have to build up the strength to make a move each time. Normally in these situations one pilot drops out. Well, this guy is just as hard-headed as Sue is.

So, who's winning? The regular Geno is showing signs of serious damage. The Reaper, well, Sue made an oil break spray over it to hide the gashes that my trained eye sees along the back and limbs. This guy deserves that Geno, before they both went into comas his reflexes were amazing. Even denting one of our freak zoids in a stock model is a big feat. But Sue Ryder, in the Geno Reaper?

After I noted the temperature I noticed something had moved. The other Geno was moving its neck. The Reaper stood like a statue as its mirror image gracefully fell forward, ending up stretched out full length like a sleeping lizard. The Judge came out of sleep mode and declared the match over. I typed in a command to record the post-battle show and hopped up into a jog through my doorway. I ran into the Hanger and got to the main console quickly, typing in their location and preparing the system for a major repair job. As I fired up the bio I heard something a few yard behind me.

"_**Heck of a match."**_

I turned my head to see a metal cat, standing behind me and leaning its fanged mouth close towards my head. I grunted and spun back to my typing.

"Sue stretched it enough to rack up enough points."

"…_**individual points?"**_

I finished typing and through my feet felt the Killer Whale King float into life toward their location.

"Yep. This little marathon got her enough to qualify her for S Class."

"_**Oooh…she's gonna be wasted tonight."**_

I snort and turn to address him.

"Give her a few days to recover, we may need to take her to the ER."

I watched an inanimate cat face slightly shift its mouth downwards.

"…she'll be fine either way. And I didn't know you could move your face."

The mouth shifted back to a straight jaw line.

"_**Been working at it for weeks."**_

"Seriously?"

A stiff nod.

"_**It's like a paralyzed guy moving his little toe. Takes a lot of work."**_

I nodded slowly, acknowledging Psy working so hard for something so common for living creatures.

"Well, you're getting more lifelike."

I chatted idly with Psy while the Whale descended slowly, the mouth hatch opened revealing grey skies and a burned out city up ahead. We landed, and a minute later in floaed the Reaper. It was covered in oil, and its jets were on its last tank. It sputtered over to an empty spot and dropped down rather roughly onto the plating, going into sleep mode out of default.

I jogged up and climbed the legs, opening the cockpit to find Sue laying back, panting. The heat of the cockpit fumed ino the air conditioned hanger as I climbed back down with her limp form over my shoulder. I walked over to the hallway, but as I did Rax came out of the door. We exchanged words and he carried Sue off to her room. I turned back to the Reaper to get started but saw something out of the open mouth hatch. The other Geno was still lying down on the battlefield. I stared for a moment, and took off full sprint for the nearest zoid.

5 Hours Later

"Mr. Brand, he's awake."

I tugged my hat back on, getting up off the bench in the hospital waiting room. I followed the nurse into a curtain-walled room to see the pilot I'd pulled out of the downed Geno, laying back with an IV in his arm, still not in the best shape but stable at least. By the time I got him out he was unconscious from the effort, the indirect hits and the heat of the cockpit.

Now that they'd washed him down a bit I got a clear look at him. Young but seasoned, burnt to a tan, semi-blonde hair worn loose to his ears. He stares for a while before he realized I was there.

"…hey…you got me out…?"

I nodded, taking a seat next to his bed.

"I'm on Team Reckless, watched the entire battle. When I went to scrape my friend's zoid off the concrete I saw you hadn't gotten up yet. Figured you had a mechanical problem."

He closed his eyes, looking to be straining.

"…I went out…as my zoid fell…"

I listened carefully, despite his altered clarity.

"You're an amazing pilot. Anybody would have blacked out in this heat and in a battle like that. Sue is keeled over back at our base.

"…Sue?"

I realized probably battled so often he didn't know his opponents. Or he was still shell shocked.

"The pilot of the other zoid."

He nodded weakly. Then sat up, his eyes sudden bright with obvious fear.

"My Geno!"

I gently pushed him back down.

"Way ahead of you…"

He calmed down to listen to me. I took a seat and kept on.

"I have my…assistant working on your zoid."

A talking zoid? That would make the guy pass out again.

"While we were flying over here my team took care of you. They told me not to waste time saving your zoid."

His eyes went dull, nearly going into shock.

"…I saved it anyway."

A weak, but very powerful sigh. This guy must be having the time of his life.

"The core was gashed pretty bad, and the power was low. I have it running on a bio-generator right now, until it can run on its own."

He weakly smiled and pointed at his IV, realized a vague irony. I smiled back and kept talking.

"My assistant is making all the major repairs. Before you ask, you don't need to pay us."

Another weak sigh of relief.

"While you're recovering, we'll work on getting your zoid back in action. You have a place to stay, right?"

He looked nervous, glancing around to see if anyone was around. I sighed, knowing what he didn't want to say.

"…we have room, you can stay a few days."

He nodded in thanks weakly. Dear god, I wanted a good zoid transport, not a motel no-tell. Regardless, here I go again.

"…and also, I have a few questions for you."

He seemed unsurprised, after all, I didn't know who the hell he was. I nearly gave him another blackout with my first question.

"When we fixed your zoid core, I noticed it had some unique qualities for a stock model."

"…yeah…the dealer said that…"

My ears perked up.

"…he said it was an older model with a new frame."

…so that's why his zoid showed signs of being alive…

"I'd like to work on your zoid."

Blank stare.

"…my name is Trey Brand."

Still staring.

"…_Chase_ Brand."

He weakly smiled, still staring blankly. Probably in shock.

"I'd like to use your zoid as a platform for a new design. Customized to your battle style."

I stopped to breathe, and watch him smile blankly. Geez, and I thought I was stupid.

"Now, once they check you out give me a call. I left my card with your clothes, just ring us up and you can rest up at our place for a few days. That mercenary bitch who nearly killed you is trying out cookie recipes."

I got up, tipped my hat to the guy and went to the door. But at the last step I heard him speak.

"…you ever see Frankenstein?"

I slowly turned to see him staring at me. I recognized him. The smile. The build. The face. That first day out of the desert…I was hooking up the Bio to Psy…I didn't know how…a guy walked up…

"…Sam?"

He weakly nodded.

"Kid, my mom always talked about good karma. I just showed some idiot how to charge up a zoid…"

I smiled and nodded.

"…well, there is one catch to all this."

His face fell into a worried stare.

"You ever hear of a party battle?"

1 Hour Later

I walked up the mouth ramp and sighed as the cool Hanger air washed over me. I saw from a distance a stripped-down Geno on a repair rack near where Psy was resting. I crept up to a console and checked its vitals, Psy must be napping after getting this thing running.

Yeah, he can work on zoids. He's rigged in with the ship system, so he can move some small cranes and mechanical service arms for major repairs a human can't go near. It's saved me some work time and gets him to sleep later at night. My future project was deep in sleep mode, its shoulders and fang-covered head draped in generator wires. Its vitals showed slow, but steady increases in energy consumption.

I later found myself walking into the living quarters and going straight to Sue's room. Ducking my head into the doorway, I saw her stretched out on her bed looking rather peaceful. I poked her in the head a few times to make sure she was alive before moving on to Rax's toy room, where he was arranging several Gun Snipers.

"Hey, that pilot is staying with us a few days."

A satisfactory grunt.

"Once he gets settled, I'm going to work on your Slash Liger. You remember single battles, right?"

Another grunt. I nodded and moved next door to Clara's lair.

"Was Sue okay?"

Clara, at her desk watching a movie, nodded.

"I got some food into her before she went back to sleep. How was the pilot?"

"He's Sam. From that one day at the Public Hanger."

"…huh. Small world."

The intercom on her desk clicked.

"…_**are you two making out yet?"**_

"I'll be right back, I have to go buy some pink spray paint before Psy falls asleep tonight."


	48. Chapter 48

DISCLAIMER: See previous chapters.

Author's Notes: Sorry for the delay! Got held up by illness and schedule conflicts. But hey, got a new project going for Trey and the Team. I got the idea from those levels in the zoids GCN game I saw my friend play once. Read on to find out what I'm talking about.and get this, people started reading my other fanfic.

I started tracing the outline of the neck with my stylus as Psy grumbled about soundproofing the Hanger. I was leaning back in his cockpit, with my latest new toy across my propped knees. It was a square, handheld media screen that was currently showing a blueprint. I had a magnetic stylus in hand, making changes manually instead of using static commands. Beyond the tinted glass of the cockpit was an endless desert, the horizon changing colors every few minutes, a sunrise was coming up. I rode him out in the dark to this secluded spot, turned on some lights in the cockpit and started working.

Why? Well, Rax is currently on a three-day trip going from battle club to battle club racking up points. Clara was doing the same, driving out her Molga and carrying the Shadow Wolf on the sled, just like the old days. Sam was still in the hospital. His zoid was currently hanging from wires in an intensive repair unit back in the Whale. I'd managed to hack it into a long-term sleep mode. I believe its core, while saved from death, was in perpetual pain while it tried to heal. So this was the merciful thing to do while I anticipated my next move.

I was serious about rebuilding it. And about the new design. But it wasn't entirely out of kindness for a lone pilot who was living in the zoid he'd sold everything he had to obtain. I was doing it because if I just rebuilt the old Geno frame the core would die, and even if it lived it would never be the same due to internal memory relapse. So I had to make a new body for it that would keep it alive until it fully healed. And while I was at it, I could improve a few things. A little polishing here, some slimming here. This core was a very unique creature, why not let it express itself?

Speaking of which, last night after giving my Psycho Saix a make over with spray paint I got a call from the ZBC President. It was more of a social call though, he asked if I wanted in on a betting pool for some football game. Then said there was a discussion going on in his Cabinet about the zoids I've been making. A few of them, not sure which ones yet, have been deemed not suitable for battle purposes. Why? They have less weak points than their original forms. They're invaluable for specialty work or exploration, my Hell Digunner is revolutionizing the mining business.

But in a ZBC battle, my zoids are too much of an advantage for those who use them. Should I take this as a compliment or an insult? They want me to weaken up a few of my zoids to sell them to the battle pilots. Well, I calmly told the drunken frat boy that is our President that I will not make a zoid inferior. He then brought up the possibility of my designs in the military.

I slightly less than calmly informed him I will not make killing machines. I already had to make my Liger obsolete for terrorism by creating power diversion units for law enforcement zoids. What would happen if the Backdraft made a few hundred Geno Reapers? Or Shadow Wolves? What if they copied the design and made a mindless Psycho Saix?

"…**_hey, could you get me a deal doing cat foot commercials?"_**

…maybe that's a good idea…I dropped my stylus onto the screen, rolled my eyes and hold back a groan.

"…well, they wouldn't have to dub in a stupid voice for you…"

…wait…he had my voice…dangit, why do all my creations turn on me!

"_**Why'd you make me take you out here again?"**_

"I hate looking at my other creations when I'm designing, I keep thinking of ways to improve them. It's distracting."

A bored, but slightly realistic sigh.

"_**Next time take out Clara's Liger, it's bored as hell."**_

…maybe I would. It was the first functioning zoid I'd ever piloted. Could be good for inspiration.

"Sounds reasonable. Well, summon the Whale to pick us up. Sue's probably still out cold."

One of Psy's trademark snickers, followed by a few beeps and chimes as the controls worked themselves while I sketched.

It wasn't a slipped joke, though. That Geno battle had only been last night, Sue was still sleeping it off. She usually gets a good amount of sleep every night. Well, she does now. Back when she was living in her Snipe Master she slept a few hours a day in a series of short naps. She wasn't exactly living a stable life. Now that she has a roof over her head she's evened out. In fact she seems a bit healthier, less freakishly skinny and pale.

I've never asked about her old life. I'm pretty assured she's not a killer or a terrorist, so I could care less. The first few nights we slept in the Whale she wasn't used to the security. She even carried around her satchel with her for a day before she got used to living indoors. I'm sure she slept with a weapon under her pillow for a long while. She's probably secure enough to keep it under her bed nowadays.

As a dark speck on the twilight sky appears I think back to meeting her in that bar my first few days here. I was recovering from my first repair/upgrade job. She was recovering from a rough soldier drop-out life and an eating disorder she developed as a teen and managed to break out of. Watching this girl cook, who can believe she used to be anorexic. She eats more than I do, it's safe to say she's freakishly skinny anyway due to genetics.

I hummed an old tune as Psy jumped into the mouth hatch of the orchard-bombing Killer Whale. He parked himself and loaded up a movie channel as I jumped out to go relax. I was taking a short vacation while most of Team Reckless was away racking up points. I curled up on the couch and dozed until around nine, six hours later. The sun through the ridiculous amount of windows didn't wake me. It was the smell of whatever Sue was eating as she sat on my chest picking bacon off the plate on her lap with a fork. The media screen was playing a Saturday morning cartoon block. And she was using me as a pillow. That bitch…

I will not be used by an attractive, large breasted and well developed seductress as a cushion for her famous behind. Why do people stare at me whenever I say that? See, just like that. Stop that.

"Hey, you're awake. Good, move your arm up a bit. My lower back is killing me."

I sighed and moved my elbow up to give her some back support as she ate breakfast.

"Thanks. How's the Reaper doing?"

I yawned.

"Psy has it in working condition, but it's still repairing itself on a small scale."

"…her. It's a her."

I closed my eyes again and banged my head back on the pillow I'd stolen from Clara's room. Yah, yeah. The Reaper was supposedly female.

"…geez, Psy keeps saying the same thing…"

I heard the sound of a fork hitting the plate as she continued eating. This went on for close to ten minutes before I heard the sound of the elevator opening and four feet tapping the tile. From my fragmented line of vision underneath Sue I saw the upside-down image of Sarah's face staring at us. I saw Sue nod calmly.

"Hey, heard you two didn't have air conditioning. Don't mind this, I'm just using him as a pillow."

I grunted in annoyance before Vega's face popped up next to Sarah.

"Mom, why is Uncle Trey lying there while Sue uses him as a chair?"

Sue remarked.

"It's called equal rights. Now go fetch me a magazine before I pull a sexual harassment suit."

Vega nodded and walked off to do so as his mother rolled her eyes.

"Ryder, I really don't think my son needs to know of that. Not yet anyway."

They both chuckled as I felt my brow twitch.

"Eh…I'm still down here…"

Sarah nodded at me before going back to talking to Sue.

"Hi Chase. Hey, I saw that singles battle you did. The one with the stock Geno…"

They chirped away to each other as I waited for Sue to get up to put her dish away. Well, as if she read my simple mind she set her plate down on the table and resumed using me as a recliner.

"…Sue. I hate you."

She laughed.

"Love you too, Trey."

…she called me Trey…nobody calls me Trey anymore except…eh…Vega. Speaking of which he came back with Sue's magazine before running off to Rax's toy room. And I'm still stuck under here…

2 Hours Later

…I'm still under Sue's ass…can't feel my left side…

3 Hours Later

…I managed to shove her off and get out of there. Barely. Nearly had to chew my legs off, but I escaped. How the heck do women talk for hours on end without doing anything? Men, we talk while doing things like building something or destroying something. I thought females were known for multi-tasking, not sitting on me for hours on end chatting about…I…don't…know…

But back on track, that Geno Core I'm going to modify is starting to stabilize. Psy gave me a readout on its vitals, during the night its pain readings have declined sharply and its other functions are staying steady. Another day or so and I may be able to start building the new body. You see, this core is nearly totaled. This new body will keep it alive and promote healing for the first few weeks before bouncing back into battle condition. When that time comes, this standard Geno will develop into a freak zoid I'd be proud to rent a space for in my garage.

In fact this is why I was where I was, in that old scrapped Empire Base. I rented a hover-sled to drag behind Psy as I directed him where to dig. We were in the shadowed interior, the light coming from a light attached to the Saix's head and from a nearby doorway. I was hunched over a night vision camera monitor telling Psy what to awkwardly pick up with a paw and dump on the sled. Why didn't I just order the parts? Well, these outdated, and possibly illegal parts were piled up to the ceiling in this old base.

And once I scrap or use all the millions of parts in here, I'd be able to explore this place a bit more. It's a historical area after all, and a huge one at that. I found some old blueprints of this place from back in the War, it was a ground unit base. At first glance, it was rows and rows of low square buildings, with a very large rectangular one in the center. This large super-hanger as they called them could accommodate several large transport zoids. It used to have a large step-like tower thing about ten stories high, for aerial launches and recon abilities. Well, it had. The tower and pretty much the top of the hanger had been toppled off, leaving a roofless ruin of the great hanger. The dozens of buildings surrounding it were untouched, filled with dead zoid parts and items left over from the decades since the war ended. I'm guessing there were close to fifty of these little warehouse buildings surrounding the ruined main one.

And my favorite part. The entire group of buildings was surrounded by a two-story wall with a double-lane walkway on the top with yet more towers. Two zoids could walk side by side atop it. Some sections had been torn down, probably in the attack that leveled the superhanger, but the whole deal looked awesome from most angles.

And here I was, cleaning out a 'tiny' hanger that could hold six zoids. There were forty nine more of these and the super-hanger left. This place was too big a clean up job to restore, it'd make a fine ZBC base. And nobody would buy it due to the secluded location. Nothing near here except a river that heads into the Lake and a few canyons. My little lecture to myself was cut short by that damn zoid.

"…_**so…this place for sale?"**_

This sent me into a double take as we turned to the door and dragged the sled out into the maze-like alley between the buildings and started toward missing wall section.

"Why? You win the lottery?"

He reached up with his left paw and manually clicked off the light I'd strapped onto his head.

"…_**this place once held nearly five hundred zoids and their pilots. And an entire military unit and their mechanics."**_

"And the janitor. What's your point?"

We started off at a slow jog, the sled weighing us down.

"_**What if somebody rebuilt it? Maybe added on even. This place could pass as a small city."**_

…actually a medium sized city. But what's he getting at?

"Yeah, it's a big place."

"_**Chase. Every day those zoids make you more money than the yearly salary for some zoid pilots. What was your last major purchase."**_

"…a candy bar."

"_**See? You never buy anything! Spend one day's paycheck on this dump and rebuild it."**_

"Why would we need a city-sized Zoids Base?"

The city of Vigilia popped up on the horizon. I pushed a button to call Sue to pick us up.

"…_**it'd be a self contained environment. Rig up a few solar panels and a hydro generator on the river through runs next to the place."**_

"…next to the place…"

"_**Reroute the river!"**_

"Psy, did you watch that show where the music stars show off their houses?"

"…_**no, not sine you blocked the channel."**_

I face-palmed myself as the Whale appeared in the faded blue sky.

"…I'm going to buy and rebuild an Imperial Base…because a talking zoid told me to…"

"…_**yeah. You are one crazy bastard."**_

Author's Notes

...yes he is...so, what do you think? Some solid ground place for the Team to crash? Who am I kidding, you people are probably having fantasies about it already.


	49. Chapter 49

DISCLAIMER: I don't own any copyrighted properties. But I do own all original aspects of this story. They're really starting to stack up.

I took meticulous care welding the last crack in the metal, wiped off the excess molten metal with my steel-impregnated glove, and cut the power on my torch. I stepped back, flipping up my face shield to admire the completed Geno experiment. I nodded to myself in victory and set down my tools on the counter. Behind my, a black and mauve Lightning Saix stood watch.

"_**So you finally started working in stages. This the first time you finish a zoid and not pass out afterwards?"**_

I shrugged, mumbling as I walked over to the elevators. I didn't have anyone to explain the new design to, so why give you a summary of something even I find confusing? I hummed to myself as the elevator coasted to the top floor , shuffling out the doorway into the kitchen for the hundredth time and into the living room beyond. Waiting for me was a pile of suitcases and shopping bags in the center of the floor. I looked around for their owners and just saw two closed doors. Well, Rax and Clara must back.

I shook my head at the pile of dirty clothes and souvenirs as I went on my way to my room, pressing the close door button behind me and plopping down at my desk. A few new messages. Vega and Sarah are staying down with Max, his brat nephew is still at it. The Geno Rangers have gone through eight sets of zoids, each one more expensive and jacked up than the last. He sent some scanned pictures of the latest line up.

I was an amateur photograph at best, but it gave a great view of the four (soon to be five, they want to add a pink one) Geno Saurers that had been custom-made for this purpose. To replace the last customs. This new generation sported frames twice the size of an average Geno. At first glance they were just was weapon-loaded with their genre of weaponry. And get this, if the pilot sticks a key in a slot and calls out a catchphrase even more weapons pop out.

And their color schemes are even worse. They went from pastels to extremely dark tones. Every inch of the zoid is colored, even the eyes and inner joint sections. And the names of the pilots have been replaced with their 'pilot names'. For instance, the red one (Max's nephew, the leader of course) is 'Geno Red' and the others follow suit.

They also redesigned their flight suits to have helmets that look like Geno heads. And gloves that look like claws. And chest plates with a Geno head engraved on them. Deep down, my inner fashion-wise-homosexual is screaming like a little girl at a freak show. And to top it all off their Great Whale King is painted all five colors. I sent the pictures to my trash folder and went to my next message, the one with the ZBC logo next to the subject line.

The letter itself is an invitation to a graduation party the Pres is throwing. Oh yeah, and they have more sightings of the Negative Liger and I need to analyze possible additions to its arsenal. The party is RSVP, the possible terrorist super weapon is written as a side note. Don't you love this branch of government?

They just got some hidden camera footage of the Liger going on another test run. The first film showed its blades deploying from a possibly remodeled compartment and a close-up of the flimsy-looking things cutting through a canyon wall. Those babes aren't ZBC compatible, I'll tell you that much. The next piece of footage shows a satellite view of the black cat using its boosters somewhere out in the desert. Judging by the camera blur, they work.

I watch the films a few time each before doing idea notes on what that thing is packing. I noticed a distinct energy pattern from the boosters, visible due to the atmosphere the satellite saw it through. That saves me a heat scan and a heck of a loading screen. The way the initial aftershock fades out quickly without hanging still…Layon. The Shadow Fox has that same quirk. No questions about, this guy either has a gun to his head, or he's taking the project under his wing like a homeless orphan.

Why ever he's taking it this far, this thing has gone from being classified as a prototype model to an actual threat. It can't take out a ZBC army, of course. But if a squadron gets separated or jumped by the Backdraft, and that thing comes out from under them…I shook off that possibility. This thing was probably geared towards the ZBC Battles. It could take out the freelance do-gooders before moving onto the Government.

Which would be my plan to take over Zi, if I had the weight to pull and the influence. Take out the S Class powerhouses and the world will be a walk through the park in an Elephander by comparison. I rubbed my aching brow as the blurry form of the Liger Zero X loomed on my desk screen. I spun in my chair to take off my shoes and sweat-drenched socks. I wrung out my ancient socks onto the carpet as my feet finally got some air.

As I wrung out the other woolen carcass I heard my door open. I looked up to see a tired, slightly thinner Clara leaning against my doorway and smiling weakly at my sock washing.

"Saw your new zoid. Sue gave me the story on it. So, I'm qualified for S Class…"

I smirked, leaning back in my chair while taking a second look at her. She really did look thinner. That climate she'd been battling at had a hotter air temperature than ours even, she lost weight due to the increased work load, and the fact it leaked right out of her pores the poor thing. I stood up after seeing her black hair dripping with sweat, taking her by the arm and walking her over to the kitchen.

"…that's great. But before you even think of getting back in a zoid you're going to take it easy for a night with the AC on full blast, drink your weight in ice water, have a few milk shakes and for Eve's Sake take a shower."

I plopped her down at the counter, got her a pre-made milk shake from the freezer and a bottle of water and shooed her off to her room. Call me old fashioned, but I can't stand a starved looking female. I don't care if they're supermodels, those girls should lose the stilettos and hit the drive through.

I got myself a shake to beat the heat and retreated back to my office/lair/bedroom/theater/bachelor pad/cocoon chamber. I closed the glaring window of the Liger of the Night and kicked back on my futon to watch the news. The anchors rattled off a poorly researched blurb on the trial case for my zoid designs.

Good thing about being a zoid designer, you don't have to represent your creations in the court room. I chuckled at the court room sketches of a lawyer pointing to a zoid picture, and then a political cartoon of a referee instructing my caricature-form zoids to do something in a plastic cup each one is holding. I cracked up at the very funny, but accurate portrayal of the Pierced Sniper looking at his urine sample cup upside down.

In fact the next story was a collection of cartoons featuring this issue. Most portrayed my little creations as victims of pointless standards (symbolized by a ZBC official counting their teeth in a dentist chair) and one showed the Geno Reaper spread against the wall next to a metal detector as a security guard pulled out a hidden knife and tossed it at the growing pile of lethal weapons behind them. Ha, that's so true…wait…that's not…meh, it's more or less true.

I flicked the news channel off in favor of a rather humorous zoid-news-only show that made fun of the day's events. These funny political cartoons made good use of curse words, which made them even funnier. I recorded them for later and enjoyed my shake while flipping channels. Hey, somebody saw Zoid Eve in a water stain under an underpass. Her nose is completely different, but if you squint while drunk it looks like her. From behind.

I won't bore you with the details of my lack of a life. In fact I'll cut away to an event of interest. Sue wandered away from her air conditioner and her booze cabinet to look at what I'd done to Sam's Geno. She looked it over before dragging me in to explain it. At ten minutes after midnight, oh joy.

Now, you can tell what this thing is at first look. A slightly sturdier, lighter, longer, and overall slightly larger Geno Saurer, no gimmicks or mutations here. Except the paint color. It was a two-toned beauty. Eggshell and ivory white plating covering most of the outside, with blue rim and secondary paneling. Looks like a police zoid.

Once you look over the red eyed, blue and white saurian you notice the size difference. Some may notice it's a half head taller than its former form. A full spinal column longer too. I'd added extra joints, which were visible as dark blue cracks in the white plating along the neck, back and tail. Why? Well, a little more flexibility goes a long way. In fact this is probably the first zoid of its build to make use of excessive agility. It can dance around like a Rev Raptor when it has to.

How about the big guns? Well, the standard guns on the back were no streamlined against the extended spine, no protruding rifles here. I'd adapted some for close range use, while increasing the range of the long range ones. Just a little improvement over the average gunner.

How about the jets? Well, the smaller than usual jets I'd added to the legs and underbelly were completely hidden in a Reaper-like manner. This gave the legs a more realistic lean look. I found later the jets were a slight improvement over advanced sock models. It will never fly or glide, but this would make a fine battle partner.

So, why hadn't I jacked this thing off the charts and added extra heads? All it gave us was an upgraded, more effective Geno with a more friendly looking color scheme. Well, this wasn't a science experiment. I'd gotten some battle footage from the archives and custom-tailored this darling to Sam's exact battle style. Nothing unorthodox or groundbreaking. Just good old fashioned skill like pop used to dish out back home. Sue seemed impressed with the job after I'd explained the benefits. She was probably proud her Geno was still deadlier. To tell the truth Sam could probably use this thing as a ticket to the next class, he's put enough into this game and it's about time it gave back.

Now, this zoid as it is, can't battle. Sure, it looks fine and dandy parked in the high-profile area and sporting a new color scheme, but this is much more than it seems. My fancy little add-on is actually an intensive, constant life support system for the damaged and comatose zoid core wrapped up in that shiny new body. It isn't moving because I haven't woken up the core from the coma I put it in out of mercy, my estimates on its vitals dictate that my giving it a solid body and the support systems that are just starting to work on their own are helping. This thing is like a doctor and team of nurses. It will rebuild this core, and later on will merge with its systems creating a superior defense system for future injuries.

Well, it's a lot more than a police zoid now that I've given you the whole story, eh? It's like a classic cyborg film, cut down in battle and rebuilt to seek revenge and protect the innocent. Speaking of cut down warriors, Sam is nearly ready to leave the hospital. I plan on not waking up this old zoid core until its master is here to comfort it and help it ease into this. Poor thing is going to have some bad memories, it may be a while before it realizes its life support system is also a new body. Sue, who I explained all this to, eventually left for bed, leaving me alone in the lighted hanger with my creations.

So, what does Sam have to pay? How much? He signed those party battle alliance forms, this pays off the debt on both sides. What, can't you imagine this thing running the ranks with the Lighting Team and Team Reckless? Actually, Sue has joked about booking the Blitz Team but I'm not so sure. Hunter, and the crazy fly boy I can imagine. The Shadow Fox, let alone Brad's piloting, is enough to get my vote. That Jamie kid? Dang good aerial maneuvering. Bit of a cowboy, but who isn't?

That Albino Liger is too high-profile for us. People would be ordering screenings just to see which armor it'd use, not how the battle is going. But I wouldn't mind having Toros and Fleugal backing us up. A deadpan sniper and a Red Liger. Enough said. Then again, I doubt Sue has connections that powerful. Sure, I've personally talked with the sniper herself about possibly working on the Red Comet, but a grease monkey and a team captain are very different roles. Well, they were before I came around.

But booking allies isn't that easy. Sure, I'm getting to be friends with Naomi and Leon and I are really hitting it off, but would I just ask them to join our draft list? That's like asking a guy you barely know to help you move to a new apartment. Besides, we have enough blade zoids in a regular battle. The Psycho Saix is actually equipped with some great guns for its breed, which I have never used. I can't aim a water gun, let alone a turret-less mid-range plasma cannon. I think Rax has used that 'boomstick' cannon on his Slash from time to time.

So let's say right as standing here in the dark, we get a ZBC call saying we have a party battle in a week. Who would I have on call to come out? Well, some of them have to recover first but here's the roster. We're up to eight, passing up the five-member minimum. What are they? Who are they?

Let's count. Three Lightning Saixes, al LS models with constantly upgraded and updated technology. Piloted by the Tasker Sisters and Jack Cisco in the flesh. One Psycho Saix armed with a knowledge of Western films. Oh yeah, he's extremely fast for a Saix and has blades capable of literally tearing the sound barrier before they hit another zoid. Piloted by some guy in a hat. The Geno Reaper, a loaded pocket knife with an ace in both sleeves. Ridden by a bounty hunter with a sterling military record. An urban Slash Liger suited for Urban Combat. Eh, it's Rax. Need I say more? The Shadow Wolf, the near perfect extension of the human mind. Mastered by Sectors zoid athlete Clara Truant. And now, the Geno Hunter. Patent Pending. Piloted by Sam Hunter himself.

**_"...why are you standing around here in the middle of the night? I'm trying to make a move on Clara's Liger, buzz off."_**

I sigh.

"...Psy...you don't have any sexual parts. Save yourself a lifetime and leave the girl alone."

Author's Notes

I'm back from Washington DC, and done updating some one-shot fic I did that may become a series. I'm also working on a flurry of one shots I'm going to put in several genres of this site. Anyone a fan of Danny Phantom (Cartoon), Pendragon (book series), Phantasy Star (Game), or Star Wars (…eh, religion?), and of course Super Smash Brothers? If so, look out, I'm coming your way.


	50. Chapter 50

DISCLAIMER:...for the fiftieth time, I don't own Zoids.

I'm still not sure why I did it. Even though it was hardly as far gone as these other snippets of my past I've shown you. This is a very recent one compared to my old Molga-renting days. Couldn't have been more than a few months ago, but it's still hazy.

I remember spending the day working on blueprints, probably of our planned base that I was going to rebuild. I probably went to bed easily enough. But for some reason I must have woke up, maybe from a dream or from the heat radiating from the window. Maybe it was instinct. The next thing I remember is hopping into Psy's cockpit fully dressed not ten minutes after waking up, it was still night out.

The trips itself is a blur. I just remember watching the sky change color as it neared four in the morning, the sky shifted colors frequently on Zi due to the multiple moons. I remember piloting without talking, so Psy was either staying quiet or asleep while I rode him like a normal zoid.

This is where I can remember things in depth. I slowed Psy down to a normal pace as I spotted my destination on the dark horizon. A clump of squared structures that marked the limits between this country and the next. I heeled my zoid into a parked crouch, opening the cockpit and hopping out straight into the packed dirt. I adjusted the collar of my Reckless-Emblazoned jacket as I walked up closer to the town, seeing it looked abandoned. As I walked past the remains of a barbed wire fence I noticed some dim lights coming from the more sturdy looking buildings. The dirt streets between the 'houses' were littered with trash and other debris.

Good old home town with no name. I swore I'd never go back there. What was I doing there then? I recall walking through the roads I knew every inch of. Past closed, makeshift stores and larger buildings divided into apartments. I can't call it a real town, most of the residents are just squatting here because the law can't reach them. It was here or jail. Personally, jail was cleaner. Max only came out here because he built a modern house near the limits, it was the most isolated place he could afford. No fans would stop by asking about how his daughter became a terrorist.

I walked under a street lamp that at once time provided light, but now just served as a decoration. I was going through the main streets to the North side of town. I knew exactly where I was going. Home. Well, where I had to live for seventeen years. Where they lived.

I saw it pop up from behind an abandoned mill, a house that was once very nice for this area. Three stories, full lawn, must have been built before the boundaries were set and the criminals moved in. Like my parents.

Speaking of which, there they were. Every window was lit up with harsh light, despite the fact it was four in the morning. I stood there in my old front lawn, watching two shadows stagger around from window to window. Each shadow was holding a bottle. They drank every night, and every other day.

For some reason, probably the same reason I came here, I walked up to the door and pushed the lock in. I heard some bottles break as the door opened, they never did pick up after themselves in this town. I looked around at the unpainted walls before taking a shallow breath and walking through the halls toward the slurred talking. Soon enough my mother falls in front of me, laughing and tossing her glass away, where it shatters against the wall. She's wearing an expensive dress that's been in tatters for years.

She lays there, laughing for a bit before looking up at me with her gray eyes and staring vacantly. Her brows tighten, she stands up while her eye begins twitching.

"…Boy…the boy crawled back for food…"

She was drunk. I could smell it from here. She starts ranting the usual speech. I'm a bastard, I ruined their life, I deserve to die and should worship her for letting me live as a child. I just stand there. Wearing a new uniform that makes this place look more dirty by the minute. She's filthy, smeared with old booze and dirt that used to be make up.

I hear my father snoring in the next room. He was the better parent, he just passed out all the time. My mother was getting angrier by the second. She was telling me to slump down like a good slave. I kept standing up straight, much taller than her now. She still thought I was a kid. She's not even here, she's in a drunken flashback. She always was.

Now she slips off one broken high heel. She raises I above her head, screeching for me to back down. I don't. Not anymore. The sight of the show makes my scars burn. She screams I deserve this and swings the sharpened shoe at my throat. It never makes contact, it flies out of her hand and clatters on the floor. She stares at her hand, seeing a dislocated finger hanging off it. She looks back at me with drunken eyes and goes to slap me. There's a snap as my wrist breaks her other hand.

She grunts, but alcohol wins over pain. She pulls a sharp piece of metal from the hemline of her dress and jabs it at my chest. I grab her wrist before it cuts my jacket. This is it? This woman made my life a living hell for years, and now she can barely hit me? She could never control me on the outside. She controlled my mind. Well, now the mind is free. And so is the body.

I toss away he old knife. I've dreamed of hitting her for years. Now she's just an old drunk. I'm not going to hit a homeless person. I shove her into the corner, turning to walk out. I still don't know why I came there. As I go to walk out I hear her clear, unslurred voice.

"…how...could you…Trey Coran…"

I slowly turn to see her looking at me like a monster. She's out of her mind. She always was.

"…you killed Trey Coran. You tortured, mutilated and killed your own son."

She just stares, still out of it.

"…oh…"

And she keels over onto the floor, out cold from the alcohol. I walk back out down the street to my Saix. I swing myself into the cockpit and start it up. Spinning him around, back to the town, and full speed ahead. We go near max speed into the horizon as I think back to what'd I'd done. I'd gone home. I'd reduced my parents to the drunken morons they really are. As I pondered why I did this, I saw the sun rise over the horizon. What? The sky hadn't turned light. It just rose up as I pulled the Psycho Saix into high gear back to Vigilia.

"…_**still in a daze, huh?"**_

I realized he was in on it. I shrugged, not making a noise.

"_**The sunset isn't supposed to come for an hour. This early one is a gift from Eve. She sends her regards to the late Trey Coran."**_

I slowly nod. It all clicked right there. Trey Coran, a little boy who was battered and scarred, nothing to look forward to but a bunch of metal animals that didn't exist. He's dead. His own parents killed him. I looked into a darkened screen and saw the hat-shaded face looking back at me. Trey's face. Trey Maxwell Brand. My father was Max Brand. My mother, I'm not sure. My sister is named Sarah. My nephew, Vega. My family? Team Reckless. What about friends. Not a single other kid in that old town. Now I made friends with dozens of people a day. Trey Coran is no more. I'm Trey Brand. But just call me Chase.

Well, Zoid Eve has good taste in gifts.

Just a Few Hours Later

Good news, Sam's girlfriend came into the picture. He won't be staying with us, she'll take care of him at her apartment. Actually, they just started dating as of this morning. Let's just say one of his nurses in the hospital had Florence Nightingale Syndrome.

But he did come by the Killer Whale to thank us, and see the zoid. After the initial greetings I led him into the Hanger, holding him up with one shoulder. He was still pretty weak. As the elevator door opened I warned him.

"…she looks a bit diff…"

He saw it from the doorway before I could say it.

"…it's…gorgous…"

I led him out to its place. He just stared at the ivory and blue Geno Saurer, trying to figure out how it could be his.

"…well, if you can make it into the cockpit and start it up we can wake up the zoid core."

I checked a graph on a console to make sure. Yeah, the core could wake up without any major pain. It needs to chill in this body for a few weeks, but after that it'll be smooth sailing.

I went to lower the cockpit, searching my shirt for the remote. By the time I found it, Sam was already prying open the hatch and stumbling in. Wow, either he recovers fast, or he really loves that zoid. I watched the red eyes flare to life, it reared back and roared, filling its new armor and body with energy. I just stood there, nodding to myself. The Geno soon shook its head as if waking up, and looked down at its own feet. I turned and walked into the elevator. These two needed some time alone.

Actually, I had to lock myself in my room and cry for an hour. I just saved two lives in one repair job.

The Next Day

I woke up in my futon, wrapped in a cool sheet and with a pillow under my feet. I stared at the ceiling for a moment, remembering waking up back when my last name was Coran. And when I lived in the Molga, and I still winced whenever some one touched me. Then the Whale King where we now resided, before and after the upgrade to a new type of transport. And now I was staring up through a skylight from the comfort of my own bed. Not a cot or a couch, a bed. Okay, futon. But you get the point.

I slid out of bed, pulling on a shirt and looking at the plaque on the wall. A montage of Max's old Saix. Then some new pictures of the Psycho Saix. And in the center, a picture from the first day of my life, standing with Riz next to the paw of a bare metal Saix in the public Hanger that we were now parked on top of. I smiled, reading the brass plate. 'Evolution or Dedication?' I continued dressing and then checked my messages at my desk. Another letter from Max. An update on the law case about my new zoid designs.

Two hundred and seventy letters of thanks from buyers of the Liger. I moved them to a folder to read later, I'm up to five hundred this week. Every day it's another saved farm. Another retired pilot who can relive his old glory days. Dozens upon dozens of new pilots who start out piloting my zoids.

And even people who have never been interested in zoids until they found a Liger parked on their property with a ribbon around its neck, and a note saying 'You're welcome.' Where did these things come from? Some think it's just a charity coincidence. Some children tell stories of a talking cat zoid that brings them to good people. Others think some guy is searching out poor souls and sending them free zoids that can make their lives easier. That's just insane. They're not free, I pay for them out of my own pocket. And do you have any idea how much it costs to ship a zoid? Heck, sometimes I have to ride it down myself and have Psy follow me so I can ride him back without being seen.

I finish readiny me message from the President and walk out to the kitchen. My Team is eating breakfast at the counter. I admire the scene before walking past them to the elevator door. Sue swallows her ceral and asks.

"Chase, you're not working on a zoid are you?"

I shake my head, waiting for the elevator to come. Rax asks.

"You doing some new training thing?"

I shake my head again. Clara asks.

"…where are you going?"

I shrug, the door opens. I step in but answer them before the door closes.

"I think I'll just take a zoid out and go run. Some kids spend all their lives dreaming of doing that."

My Team chuckles as he door begins to close. Clara calls out before it shuts.

"Chase, you're one weird guy."

I chuckle as the lift goes down. I stand there silently as the floors go by. The emergency speaker clicks.

"…_**you crying, or did a fly kamikaze into your cornea?"**_

"…Psy, I am going to personally rip out these cameras with my bare hands."

Author's Note

Fifty chapters...wow. And Trey's only been around for six months. Sorry if this chapter was too emotional and gritty. Thanks for the reviews, and thank you for reading. And no, this isn't the end. I'm just getting started. Dear God, I just quoted my own character...


End file.
